THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


r  r  AHI  = 


POEMS 


OF 


RELIGION   AND   SOCIETY 


BY 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS, 

SIXTH  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES,  ETO-, 

WITH 
NOTICES  OF  HIS  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER, 

BY 
JOHN  DAYIS  AND  T.  H.  BENTON. 


ATJBUEN : 

DERBY  AND  MILLER. 

BUFFALO : 

DERBY,  OKTON  &   MULLIGAN. 
1853. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1848,  by 
WILLIAM  H.  GRAHAM. 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


Stereotyped  by  BAH»B  &  P 
11  Spruce  Street- 


CONTENTS 


The  Life  of  Mr.  Adams,  by  the  Hon.  John  Davis,      .        .  7 

The  Character  of  Mr.  Adams,  by  the  Hon.  T.  H.  Beaton,  12 

POEMS. 

The  Wants  of  Man,  .                         15  - 

The  Plague  in  the  Forest, 24 

To  a  Bereaved  Mother, 29 

Charles  the  Fifth's  Clocks, 32 

Eetrospection, 36 

To  the  Sun-dial,  under  the  Window  of  the  Hall  of  the  House 

of  Representatives  of  the  United  States,      ...  38 

The  Thirteenth  Satire  of  Juvenal, 39 

Version  of  the  One  Hundred  Seventh  Psalm,         .        .  52 

The  Hour-glass, 54 

Sabbath  Morning, 56 

The  Death  of  Children, 58 

Written  in  Sickness, 60 

Hymn  for  the  Twenty-second  of  December,     .     -  .        .62 

O  God,  with  goodness  all  thy  own,         .        .        .    •    .  64 

Sing  to  Jehovah  a  new  song, 65 

O,  all  ye  people,  clap  your  hands, 67 


4518 


IV  CONTENTS. 

Turn  to  the  stars  of  heaven  thine  eyes,      ....  69 

O  Lord  my  God!  how  great  art  thou!             .        .  71 

0  Lord,  thy  all-discerning  eyes, 73 

My  soul,  before  thy  Maker  kneel, 75 

For  Thee  in  Zion  waiteth  praise, 77 

My  Shepherd  is  the  Lord  on  high,          ....  79 
Bond  forth,  O  God,  thy  truth  and  light,      .        .        .        .81 

O  judge  me,  Lord,  for  thou  art  just,        ....  82 

O  heal  me,  Lord,  for  I  am  weak,       ....     '\  83 

Blest  is  the  mortal  whose  delight, 85 

Why  should  I  fear  in  evil  days, 87 

Come,  let  us  sing  unto  the  Lord, 89 

Sing  to  the  Lord  a  song  of  praise, 90 

Lord  of  all  Worlds 92 

Justice— an  Ode, 94 

To  Sally, 100 

To  E B , 103 

"  To  a  Lady,  who  Presented  him  with  a  Pair  of  Knit  Gloves,  105 

•-  The  Lip  and  the  Heart, 107 

Written  in  an  Album, 108 

"  A 


PUBLISHER'S   NOTICE. 


IT  is  known  to  all  the  friends  of  the  late  ex-President  Adams, 
that  it  was  his  custom  from  early  manhood  to  devote  his  leisure 
moments  to  literature;  and  the  fruits  of  his  literary  studies, 
when  collected  in  an  appropriate  form,  will  show  that  he  is  enti- 
tled to  high  consideration  among  our  authors.  Among  his 
poems  are  a  translation  *  of  Wieland's  "  Oberon"  that  has  never 
been  published.  His  "  Dermot  McMorrogh"  failed  of  a  just 
appreciation,  on  account  of  his  political  relations.  Many  of  his 
minor  pieces  have  wit,  humor,  grace,  and  tenderness,  and  they 
are  all  informed  with  wisdom  and  various  learning.  Some  of 
his  "  hymns"  are  among  the  finest  devotional  lyrics  in  our  Ian 


This  collection  of  Mr.  Adams'  shorter  poems  is,  of  course, 
incomplete,  having  been  made  from  the  periodicals  and  miscel- 
lanies in  which  they  were  originally  printed  ;  but  the  editor  has 
made  it  as  perfect  as  his  opportunities  allowed,  and  he  is  confi- 
dent that,  in  the  absence  of  any  other  volume  of  the  same  kind, 
he  has  done  an  acceptable  service  to  the  reading  public. 

Nicw  YORK,  Sept.,  1848. 

*  See  Griswold's  "Prose  writers  of  America,"  Article  J.  Q.  Adama 


8  LIFE   OF   ME.    ADAMS. 

lands.  In  May,  1796,  two  years  after,  he  was  appointed  Minis- 
ter Plenipotentiary  at  Lisbon,  in  Portugal.  These  honors  were 
conferred  on  him  by  George  Washington,  with  the  advice  and 
consent  of  the  Senate. 

In  May,  1797,  he  was  appointed  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to 
the  King  of  Prussia.  In  March,  1798,  and  probably  while  at 
Berlin,  he  was  appointed  a  Commissioner,  with  full  powers  to 
negotiate  a  treaty  of  amity  and  commerce  with  Sweden. 

After  his  return  to  the  United  States  he  was  elected  by  the 
Legislature  of  Massachusetts  a  Senator,  and  discharged  the  duties 
of  that  station  in  this  chamber  from  the  4th  of  March,  1803,  until 
June,  1808,  when,  differing  from  his  colleague  and  from  the 
State  upon  a  great  political  question,  he  resigned  his  seat.  la 
June,  1809,  he  was  nominated  and  appointed  Minister  Plenipo- 
tentiary to  the  Court  of  St.  Petersburgh. 

While  at  that  court,  in  February,  1811,  he  was  appointed  an 
Associate  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  to 
fill  a  vacancy  occasioned  by  the  death  of  Judge  Cushing,  but 
never  took  his  seat  upon  the  bench. 

In  May,  1813,  he,  with  Messrs.  Gallacin  and  Bayard,  wa* 
nominated  Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary  ta 
negotiate  a  treaty  of  peace  with  Great  Britain,  under  the  media- 
tion of  Russia,  and  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  Russia.  From 
causes  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  notice,  nothing  was  accom- 
plished under  this  appointment.  But  afterward,  in  January, 
1814,  he,  with  Messrs.  Gallatin,  Bayard,  Clay,  and  Russell,  were 
appointed  Ministers  Plenipotentiary  and  Extraordinary  to  nego- 
tiate a  treaty  of  peace,  and  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  Great 
Britain.  This  mission  succeeded  in  effecting  a  pacification,  and 
the  name  of  Mr.  Adams  is  subscribed  to  the  treaty  of  Ghent. 

After  this  eventful  crisis  in  our  public  affairs,  he  was,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1815,  selected  by  Mr.  Madison  to  represent  the  country, 
and  protect  its  interests,  at  the  Court  of  St.  James ;  and  he  re- 
mained there  as  Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Plenipotenti- 
ary until  Mr.  Monroe  became  President  of  the  United  State*. 


LIFE    OF   MR.    ADAMS.  9 

On  the  5th  of  Marcn,  1817,  at  the  commencement  of  the  new 
administration,  he  was  appointed  Secretary  of  State,  and  con- 
tinued in  the  office  while  that  gentleman  was  at  the  head  of  the 
administration. 

In  1825,  he  was  elected  his  successor,  and  discharged  the 
duties  of  President  for  one  term,  ending  on  the  third  of  March, 
1829. 

Here  followed  a  brief  period  of  repose  from  public  service, 
and  Mr.  Adams  retired  to  his  family  mansion  at  Quincy ;  but 
was  elected  a  member  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  from  the 
district  in  which  he  lived,  at  the  next  election  which  occurred 
after  his  return  to  it,  and  took  his  seat  in  December,  1831.  He 
retained  it,  by  successive  elections,  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

I  have  not  ventured,  on  this  occasion,  beyond  a  bare  enume- 
ration of  the  high  places  of  trust  and  confidence  which  have  been 
conferred  upon  the  deceased.  The  service  covers  a  period  of 
more  than  half  a  century ;  and  what  language  can  I  employ 
which  will  portray  more  forcibly  the  great  merits  of  the  deceas- 
ed, the  confidence  reposed  in  him  by  the  public,  or  the  ability 
with  which  he  discharged  the  duties  devolved  upon  him,  than, 
by  this  simple  narration  of  recorded  facts  ?  An  ambitious  man 
could  not  desire  a  more  emphatic  eulogy. 

Mr.  Adams,  however,  was  not  merely  a  statesman,  but  a  ripe, 
accomplished  scholar,  who,  during  a  life  of  remarkably  well- 
directed  industry,  made  those  great  acquirements  which  adorned 
his  character,  and  gave  to  it  the  manly  strength  of  wisdom  and 
intelligence. 

As  a  statesman  and  patriot,  he  will  rank  among  the  illustrious 
men  of  an  age  prolific  in  great  names,  and  greatly  distinguished 
for  its  progress  in  civilization.  The  productions  of  his  pen  are 
proofs  of  a  vigorous  mind,  imbued  with  a  profound  knowledge 
of  what  it  investigates,  and  of  a  memory  which  was  singularly 
retentive  and  capacious. 

But  his  character  is  not  made  up  of  those  conspicuous  qualities 
alone.  He  will  be  remembered  for  the  virtues  of  private  life 


10  LIFE   OF   MR.   ADAMS. 

for  his  elevated  moral  example,  for  his  integrity,  for  his  devotion 
to  his  duties  as  a  Christian,  as  a  neighbor,  and  as  the  head  of  a 
family.  In  all  these  relations,  few  persons  have  set  a  more 
steadfast  or  brighter  example,  and  few  have  descended  to  the 
grave  where  the  broken  ties  of  social  and  domestic  affection 
have  been  more  sincerely  lamented.  Great  as  may  be  the  loss 
to  the  public  of  one  so  gifted  and  wise,  it  is  by  the  family  that 
his  death  will  be  most  deeply  felt.  His  aged  and  beloved  part- 
ner, who  has  so  long  shared  the  honors  of  his  career,  and  to 
whom  all  who  know  her  are  bound  by  the  ties  of  friendship 
will  believe  that  we  share  her  grief,  mourn  her  bereavement 
and  sympathize  with  her  in  her  affliction. 

It  is  believed  to  have  been  the  earnest  wish  of  his  heart  to  die, 
like  Chatham,  in  the  midst  of  his  labors.  It  was  a  sublime 
thought,  that  where  he  had  toiled  in  the  house  of  the  nation,  in 
hours  of  the  day  devoted  to  its  service,  the  stroke  of  death 
should  reach  him,  and  there  sever  the  ties  of  love  and  patriot- 
ism which  bound  him  to  earth.  He  fell  in  his  seat,  attacked  by 
paralysis,  of  which  he  had  before  been  a  subject.  To  describe 
the  scene  which  ensued  would  be  impossible.  It  was  more  than 
the  spontaneous  gush  of  feeling  which  all  such  events  call  forth, 
so  much  to  the  honor  of  our  nature.  It  was  the  expression  of 
reverence  for  his  moral  worth,  of  admiration  for  his  great  intel- 
lectual endowments,  and  of  veneration  for  his  age  and  public 
services.  All  gathered  round  the  sufferer,  and  the  strong  sym- 
pathy and  deep  feeling  which  were  manifested,  showed  that  the 
business  of  the  House  (which  was  instantly  adjourned)  was  for- 
gotten amid  the  distressing  anxieties  of  the  moment.  He  was 
soon  removed  to  the  apartment  of  the  Speaker,  where  he  re- 
mained, surrounded  by  afflicted  friends,  till  the  weary  clay  re- 
signed its  immortal  spirit.  "This is  the  end  of  earth!"  Brief 
but  emphatic  words.  They  were  among  the  last  uttered  by  the 
dying  Christian. 

Thus  has  closed  the  life  of  one  whose  purity,  patriotism,  tal- 
ents, and  learning,  have  seldom  been  seriously  questioned.  To 


LIJS  OF   MR,  ADAMS. 


11 


say  that  he  had  faults,  would  only  be  declaring  that  he  was  hu- 
man. Let  him  who  is  exempt  from  error,  venture  to  point  them 
out.  In  this  long  career  of  public  life,  it  would  be  strange  if 
the  venerable  man  had  no*  met  with  many  who  have  differed 
from  him  in  sentiment,  or  who  have  condemned  his  acts.  If 
there  be  such,  let  the  mantle  of  oblivion  be  thrown  over  each 
unkind  thought.  Let  not  the  grave  of  the  "  old  man  eloquent" 
be  desecrated  by  unfriendly  remembrances,  but  let  us  yield  our 
homage  to  his  many  virtues,  and  let  it  be  our  prayer  that  we 
may  so  perform  our  duties  here,  that,  if  summoned  in  a  like  sud- 
den and  appalling  manner,  we  may  not  be  found  unprepared  or 
unable  to  utter  his  words,  "  I  am  composed." 


THE 

CHARACTER   OF  MR    ADAMS 

BY   THE    HON.    T.    H.    BENTON. 

THE  voice  of  his  native  State  has  been  heard,  through  one  of 
the  Senators  of  Massachusetts,  announcing  the  death  of  her  ageJ 
and  most  distinguished  son.  It  is  not  unfitting  or  unbecoming 
in  me  to  second  the  motion  which  has  been  made,  for  extending 
the  last  honors  of  the  Senate  to  him  who,  forty-five  years  ago, 
was  a  member  of  this  body,  who,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  was 
among  the  oldest  members  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  and 
who,  putting  the  years  of  his  service  together,  was  the  oldest  of 
all  the  members  of  the  American  government. 

The  eulogium  of  Mr.  Adams  is  made  in  the  facts  of  his  life, 
which  the  Senator  from  Massachusetts  has  so  strikingly  stated, 
that,  from  early  manhood  to  octogenarian  age,  he  has  been  con 
stantly  and  most  honorably  employed  in  the  public  service.  For 
a  period  of  more  than  fifty  years,  from  the  time  of  his  first  ap- 
pointment as  minister  abroad  under  Washington,  to  his  last  elec- 
tion to  the  House  of  Representatives  by  the  people  of  his  native 
district,  he  has  been  constantly  retained  in  the  public  service ; 
and  that,  not  by  the  favor  of  a  sovereign,  or  by  hereditary  title, 
but  by  the  elections  and  appointments  of  republican  government. 
This  fact  makes  the  eulogy  of  the  illustrious  deceased.  For 
what,  except  a  union  of  all  the  qualities  which  command  the 
esteem  and  confidence  of  man,  could  have  ensured  a  public  ser 
vice  so  long,  by  appointments  free  and  popular,  and  from  sources 
so  various  and  exalted  ?  Minister  many  times  abroad ;  membe* 
of  this  body ;  member  of  the  House  of  Representatives ;  cabi 


CHARACTER   OF   MR.    ADAMS.  13 

net  minister ;  President  of  the  United  States ;  such  has  been  the 
galaxy  of  his  splendid  appointments.  And  what  but  moral  ex- 
cellence the  most  perfect ;  intellectual  ability  the  most  eminent ; 
fidelity  the  most  unwavering;  service  the  most  useful;  could 
have  commanded  such  a  succession  of  appointments  so  exalted, 
from  sources  so  various  and  so  eminent  ?  Nothing  less  could 
have  commanded  such  a  series  of  appointments ;  and  accordingly 
we  see  the  union  of  all  these  great  qualities  in  him  who  has  re- 
ceived them. 

In  this  long  career  of  public  service,  Mr.  Adams  was  distin- 
guished not  only  by  faithful  attention  to  all  the  great  duties  of  his 
stations,  but  to  all  their  less  and  minor  duties.  He  was  not  the 
Salamiuian  galley,  to  be  launched  only  on  extraordinary  occa- 
sions, but  he  was  the  ready  vessel,  always  launched  when  the 
duties  of  his  station  required  it,  be  the  occasion  great  or  small. 
As  President,  as  cabinet  minister,  as  minister  abroad,  he  exam- 
ined all  questions  that  came  before  him,  and  examined  all,  in  all 
their  parts,  in  all  the  minutiae  of  their  detail,  as  well  as  in  all  the 
vastness  of  their  comprehension.  As  Senator,  and  as  a  member 
of  the  House  of  Representatives,  the  obscure  committee-room 
was  as  much  the  witness  of  his  laborious  application  to  the  drudg- 
ery of  legislation,  as  the  halls  of  the  two  Houses  were  to  the 
ever  ready  speech,  replete  with  knowledge,  which  instructed  all 
hearers,  enlightened  all  subjects,  and  gave  dignity  and  ornament 


In  the  observance  of  all  the  proprieties  of  life,  Mr.  Adams  was 
a  most  noble  and  impressive  example.  He  cultivated  the  minor 
as  well  as  the  greater  virtues.  Wherever  his  presence  could 
give  aid  and  countenance  to  what  was  useful  and  honorable  to 
man,  there  he  was.  In  the  exercises  of  the  school  and  of  the  col- 
lege— in  the  meritorious  meetings  of  the  agricultural,  mechani- 
cal, and  commercial  societies — in  attendance  upon  divine  wor- 
ship— he  gave  the  punctual  attendance  rarely  seen  but  in  those 
who  are  free  from  the  weight  of  public  cares. 

Punctual  to  every  duty,  death  found  him  at  the  post  of  duty ; 
2 


14 


CHARACTER  OF   MR.   ADAMS. 


and  where  else  could  it  have  found  him,  at  any  stage  of  his  ca- 
reer, for  the  fifty  years  of  his  illustrious  public  life  ?  From  the 
time  of  his  first  appointment  by  Washington  to  his  last  election 
by  the  people  of  his  native  town,  where  could  death  have  found 
him  but  at  the  post  of  duty  ?  At  that  post,  in  the  fullness  of  age, 
in  the  ripeness  of  renown,  crowned  with  honors,  surrounded  by 
his  family,  his  friends,  and  admirers,  and  in  the  very  presence  of 
the  national  representation,  he  haa  been  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
leaving  behind  him  the  memory  of  public  services  which  are  the 
history  of  his  country  for  half  a  century,  and  the  example  of  a 
life,  public  and  private,  which  should  be  the  study  and  the  model 
of  the  generations  of  his  countrymen. 


POEMS. 


THE  WANTS  OF    MAN.* 


"Man  wants  but  little  here  below, 
Nor  wants  that  little  long."—  Goldsmith's  Hermit. 


- 
"  MAN  wants  but  little  here  below, 

Nor  wants  that  little  long." 
'Tis  not  with  ME  exactly  so, 

But  'tis  so  in  the  song. 
MY  wants  are  many,  and  if  told 
Would  muster  many  a  score  ; 
And  were  each  wish  a  mint  of  gold, 
I  still  should  long  for  more. 

*  It  was  written  under  those  circumstances  :—  General  Ogle  informed 
Mr.  Adams  that  several  young  ladies  in  his  district  had  requested  him  to 
procure  Mr.  A.'s  autograph  for  them.  In  accordance  with  this  request, 
Mr.  Adams  wrote  the  following  beautiful  poem  upon  "The  Wants  of 
Man,"  each  stanza  upon  a  sheet  of  note  paper. 


16  THE    WANTS    OF    MAN. 

II. 

What  first  I  want  is  daily  bread, 

And  canvas  backs  and  wine ; 
And  all  the  realms  of  nature  spread 

Before  me  when  I  dine. 
Four  courses  scarcely  can  provide 

My  appetite  to  quell, 
With  four  choice  cooks  from  France,  beside, 

To  dress  my  dinner  well. 

III. 
What  next  I  want,  at  heavy  cost, 

Is  elegant  attire ; — 
Black  sable  furs,  for  winter's  frost, 

And  silks  for  summer's  fire, 
And  Cashmere  shawls,  and  Brussels  lace 

My  bosom's  front  to  deck, 
And  diamond  rings  my  hands  to  grace, 

And  rubies  for  my  neck. 

IV. 
And  then  I  want  a  mansion  fair, 

A  dwelling  house,  in  style, 
Four  stories  high,  for  wholesome  air — 

A  massive  marble  pile ; 
With  halls  for  banquets  and  balls, 

All  furnished  rich  and  fine ; 
With  stabled  studs  in  fifty  stalls, 

And  cellars  for  my  wine. 


THE   WANTS   OF   MAN.  17 

V. 

I  want  a  garden  and  a  park, 

My  dwelling  to  surround— 
A  thousand  acres  (bless  the  mark), 

With  walls  encompassed  round- 
Where  flocks  may  range  and  herds  may  low, 

And  kids  and  lambkins  play, 
And  flowers  and  fruits  commingled  grow, 

All  Eden  to  display. 

VI. 

I  want,  when  summer's  foliage  falls, 

And  autumn  strips  the  trees, 
A  house  within  the  city's  walls, 

For  comfort  and  for  ease. 
But  here,  as  space  is  somewhat  scant. 

And  acres  somewhat  rare, 
My  house  in  town  I  only  want 

To  occupy a  square. 

VII. 
I  want  a  steward,  bulled,  cooks ; 

A  coachman,  footman,  grooms, 
A  library  of  well-bound  books, 

And  picture-garnished  rooms; 
Corregios,  Magdalen,  and  Night, 

The  matron  of  the  chair ; 
Guide's  fleet  coursers  in  their  flight, 

And  Claudes  at  least  a  pair. 
2  » 


18  THE  WANTS   OF  MAN. 

VIII. 
I  want  a  cabinet  profuse 

Of  medals,  coins,  and  gems; 
A  printing  press,  for  private  use, 

Of  fifty  thousand  EMS  ; 
And  plants,  and  minerals,  and  shells; 

Worms,  insects,  fishes,  birds; 
And  every  beast  on  earth  that  dwells 

In  solitude  or  herds. 

IX. 

I  want  a  board  of  burnished  plate, 

Of  silver  and  of  gold ; 
Tureens  of  twenty  pounds  in  weight, 

With  sculpture's  richest  mould ; 
Plateaus,  with  chandeliers  and  lamps, 

Plates,  dishes — all  the  same  ; 
And  porcelain  vases,  with  the  stamps 

Of  Sevres,  Angouleme. 

X. 

And  maples,  of  fair  glossy  stain, 

Must  form  my  chamber  doors, 
And  carpets  of  the  Wilton  grain 

Must  cover  all  my  floors  ;' 
My  walls,  with  tapestry  bedeck'd, 

Must  never  be  outdone ; 
And  damask  curtains  must  protect 

Their  colors  from  the  sun. 


THE  WANTS   OF  MAN.  19 

XI. 
And  mirrors  of  the  largest  pane 

From  Venice  must  be  brought ; 
And  sandal-wood,  and  bamboo  cane, 

For  chairs  and  tables  bought ; 
On  all  the  mantel-pieces,  clocks 

Of  thrice-gilt  bronze  must  stand, 
And  screens  of  ebony  and  box 

Invite  the  stranger's  hand. 

XII. 
I  want  (who  does  not  want  ?)  a  wife, 

Affectionate  and  fair, 
To  solace  all  the  woes  of  life, 

And  all  its  joys  to  share  ; 
Of  temper  sweet,  of  yielding  will, 

Of  firm,  yet  placid  mind, 
With  all  my  faults  to  love  me  still, 

With  sentiment  refin'd. 

XIII. 
And  as  Time's  car  incessant  runs, 

And  Fortune  fills  my  store, 
I  want  of  daughters  and  of  sons 

From  eight  to  half  a  score. 
I  want  (alas !  can  mortal  dare 

Such  bliss  on  earth  to  crave?) 
That  all  the  girls  be  chaste  and  fair — 

The  boys  all  wise  and  brave. 


THE   WANTS   OF  MAN. 

XIV. 
And  when  my  bosom's  darling  sings, 

With  melody  divine, 
A  pedal  harp  of  many  strings 

Must  with  her  voice  combine. 
A  piano,  exquisitely  wrought, 

Must  open  stand,  apart, 
That  ah1  my  daughters  may  be  taught 

To  win  the  stranger's  heart. 

XV. 
My  wife  and  daughters  will  ddsire 

Refreshment  from  perfumes, 
Cosmetics  for  the  skin  require, 

And  artificial  blooms. 
The  civil  fragrance  shall  dispense, 

And  treasur'd  sweets  return ; 
Cologne  revive  the  flagging  sense, 

And  smoking  amber  burn. 

XVI. 
And  when  at  night  my  weary  head 

Begins  to  droop  and  dose,    . 
A  southern  chamber  holds  my  bed, 

For  nature's  soft  repose ; 
With  blankets,  counterpanes,  and  sheet, 

Mattrass,  and  bed  of  down, 
And  comfortables  for  my  feet, 

And  pillows  for  my  crown. 


THE  WANTS   OF  MAN.  21 

XVII. 
I  want  a  warm  and  faithful  friend, 

To  cheer  the  adverse  hour, 
Who  ne'er  to  flatter  will  descend, 

Nor  bend  the  knee  to  power ; 
A  friend  to  chide  me  when  I'm  wrong, 

My  inmost  soul  to  see ; 
And  that  my  friendship  prove  as  strong 

For  him,  as  his  for  me. 

XVIII. 
I  want  a  kind  and  tender  heart, 

For  others  wants  to  feel ; 
A  soul  secure  from  Fortune's  dart, 

And  bosom  arm'd  with  steel ; 
To  bear  divine  chastisement's  rod. 

And  mingling  in  my  plan, 
Submission  to  the  will  of  God, 

With  charity  to  man. 

XIX. 
I  want  a  keen,  observing  eye, 

An  ever-listening  ear, 
The  truth  through  all  disguise  to  spy^ 

And  wisdom's  voice  to  hear ; 
A  tongue,  to  speak  at  virtue's  need, 

In  Heaven's  sublimest  strain ; 
And  lips,  the  cause  of  man  to  plead, 

And  never  plead  in  vain. 


22  THE  WANTS   OF  MAN. 

XX. 

I  want  uninterrupted  health, 

Throughout  my  long  career, 
And  streams  of  never-failing  wealth, 

To  scatter  far  and  near ; 
The  destitute  to  clothe  and  feed, 

Free  bounty  to  bestow ; 
Supply  the  helpless  orphan's  need, 

And  soothe  the  widow's  woe. 

XXI. 
I  want  the  genius  to  conceive, 

The  talents  to  unfold, 
Designs,  the  vicious  to  retrieve, 

The  virtuous  to  uphold ; 
Inventive  power,  combining  skill, 

A  persevering  soul, 
Of  human  hearts  to  mould  the  will, 

And  reach  from  pole  to  pole. 

XXII. 
I  want  the  seals  of  power  and  place, 

The  ensigns  of  command, 
Charged  by  the  people's  unbought  grace, 

To  rule  my  native  land. 
Nor  crown,  nor  sceptre  would  I  ask 

But  from  my  country's  will, 
By  day,  by  night,  to  ply  the  task 

Her  cup  of  bliss  to  fill. 


THE   WANTS   OF   MAN.  23 

XXIII. 
I  want  the  voice  of  honest  praise 

To  follow  me  behind, 
And  to  be  thought  in  future  days 

The  friend  of  human  kind ; 
That  after  ages,  as  they  rise, 

Exulting  may  proclaim, 
In  choral  union  to  the  skies, 

Their  blessings  on  my  name 

XXIV. 
These  are  the  wants  of  mortal  man ; 

I  cannot  want  them  long, 
For  life  itself  is  but  a  span, 

And  earthly  bliss  a  song. 
My  last  great  want,  absorbing  all, 

Is,  when  beneath  the  sod, 
And  summon'd  to  my  final  call, 

The  mercy  of  my  God. 

XXV. 

And  oh !  while  circles  in  my  veins 

Of  life  the  purple  stream, 
And  yet  a  fragment  small  remains 

Of  nature's  transient  dream, 
My  soul,  in  humble  hope  unscar'd, 

Forget  not  thou  to  pray, 
That  this  thy  WANT  may  be  prepared 

To  meet  the  Judgment  Day. 


24         THE  PLAGUE  IN  THE  FOREST. 


THE  PLAGUE  IN  THE  FOREST. 

TIME  was,  when  round  the  lion's  den, 

A  peopled  city  raised  its  head  ; 
'Twas  not  inhabited  by  men, 

But  by  four-footed  beasts  instead. 
The  lynx,  the  leopard,  and  the  bear, 
The  tiger  and  the  wolf,  were  there ; 

The  hoof-defended  steed ; 
The  bull,  prepared  with  horns  to  gore, 
The  cat  with  claws,  the  tusky  boar, 

And  all  the  canine  breed. 


In  social  compact  thus  combined, 

Together  dwelt  the  beasts  of  prey ; 
Their  murderous  weapons  all  resigned, 

And  vowed  each  other  not  to  slay. 
Among  them  Reynard  thrust  his  phiz ; 
Not  hoof,  nor  horn,  nor  tusk  was  his, 

For  warfare  all  unfit ; 
He  whispered  to  the  royal  dunce, 
And  gained  a  settlement  at  once  ; 

.  His  weapon  was, — his  wit. 


THE  PLAGUE  IN  THE  FOREST.         25 

One  summer,  by  some  fatal  spell, 

(Phoebus  was  peevish  for  some  scoff,) 
The  plague  upon  that  city  fell, 

And  swept  the  beasts  by  thousands  off. 
The  lion,  as  became  his  part, 
Loved  his  own  people  from  his  heart, 

And  taking  counsel  sage, 
His  peerage  summoned  to  advise 
And  offer  up  a  sacrifice, 

To  soothe  Apollo's  rage. 

Quoth  lion,  "  We  are  sinners  all, 

And  even  it  must  be  confessed,, 
If  among  sheep  I  chance  to  fall,— 

I,  I  am  guilty  as  the  rest. 
To  me  the  sight  of  lamb  is  curst, 
It  kindles  in  my  throat  a  thirst,— 

I  struggle  to  refrain,— 
"  Poor  innocent .'  his  blood  so  sweet ! 
His  flesh  so  delicate  to  eat ! 

I  find  resistance  vain. 


"  Now  to  be  candid,  I  must  own 

The  sheep  are  weak  and  I  am  strong, 

But  when  we  find  ourselves  alone, 

The  sheep  have  never  done  me  wrong. 

And,  since  I  purpose  to  reveal 

All  my  offences,  nor  conceal 


THE  PLAGUE  IN  THE  FOREST. 

One  trespass  from  your  view ; 
My  appetite  is  made  so  keen, 
That  with  the  sheep  the  time  has  been 

I  took, — the  shepherd  too. 

"  Then  let  us  all  our  sins  confess, 

And  whosesoe'er  the  blackest  guilt, 
To  ease  my  people's  deep  distress, 

Let  his  atoning  blood  be  spilt. 
My  own  confession  now  you  hear, 
Should  none  of  deeper  dye  appear, 

Your  sentence  freely  give  ; 
And  if  on  me  should  fall  the  lot, 
Make  me  the  victim  on  the  spot, 

And  let  my  people  live." 

The  council  with  applauses  rung, 

To  hear  the  Codrus  of  the  wood  ; 
Though  still  some  doubt  suspended  hung, 

If  he  would  make  his  promise  good,— 
Quoth  Reynard, — "  Since  the  world  was  made, 
Was  ever  love  like  this  displayed  T 

Let  us  like  subjects  true 
Swear,  as  before  your  feet  we  fall, 
Sooner  than  you  should  die  for  all, 

We  all  will  die  for  you. 

"  But  please  your  majesty,  I  deem, 
Submissive  to  your  royal  grace, 


THE  PLAGUE  IN  THE  FOREST.         27 

You  hold  in  far  too  high  esteem 

That  paltry,  poltroon,  sheepish  race ; 
For  oft,  reflecting  in  the  shade, 
I  ask  myself  why  sheep  were  made 

By  all-creating  power  ? 
And  howsoe'er  I  tax  my  mind, 
This  the  sole  reason  I  can  find, 

For  lions  to  devour. 

"  And  as  for  eating  now  and  then, 

As  well  the  shepherd  as  the  sheep,— 
How  can  that  braggart  breed  of  men 

Expect  with  you  the  peace  to  keep  ? 
'Tis  time  their  blustering  boast  to  stem, 
That  all  the  world  was  made  for  them, 

And  prove  creation's  plan ; 
Teach  them  by  evidence  profuse 
That  man  was  made  for  lion's  use, 

Not  lions  made  for  man." 

And  now  the  noble  peers  begin, 

And,  cheered  with  such  examples  bright, 
Disclosing  each  his  secret  sin, 

Some  midnight  murder  brought  to  light 
Beynard  was  counsel  for  them  all, 
No  crime  the  assembly  could  appal, 

But  Tie  could  botch  with  paint : 
Hark !  as  his  honeyed  accents  roll, 
Each  tiger  is  a  gentle  soul : 

Each  blood-hound  is  a  saint. 


THE  PLAGUE  IN  THE  FOREST. 

When  each  had  told  his  tale  in  turn, 

The  long-eared  beast  of  burden  came 
And  meekly  said,  "  My  bowels  yearn 

To  make  confession  of  my  shame ; 
But  I  remember  on  a  tune 
I  passed,  not  thinking  of  a  crime, 

A  haystack  on  my  way : 
His  lure  some  tempting  devil  spread, 
I  stretched  across  the  fence  my  head, 

And  cropped, — a  lock  of  hay." 

"  Oh,  monster  !  villain '"  Reynard  cried,— 

"  No  longer  seek  the  victim,  sire ; 
Nor  why  your  subjects  thus  have  died, 

To  expiate  Apollo's  ire." 
The  council  with  one  voice  decreed  ; 
All  joined  to  execrate  the  deed, — 

"  What,  steal  another's  grass !" 
The  blackest  crime  their  lives  could  show, 
Was  washed  as  white  as  virgin  snow  ; 

The  victim  was,— The  Ass. 


TO   A   BEREAVED   MOTHER.  29 


TO  A  BEREAVED  MOTHER. 

SURE,  to  the  mansions  of  the  blest 

When  infant  innocence  ascends, 
Some  angel,  brighter  than  the  rest, 

The  spotless  spirit's  flight  attends. 
On  wings  of  ecstasy  they  rise, 

Beyond  where  worlds  material  roll ; 
Till  some  fair  sister  of  the  skiea 

Beceives  the  unpolluted  soul. 

That  inextinguishable  beam, 

With  dust  united  at  our  birth, 
Sheds  a  more  dim,  discolor'd  gleam 

The  more  it  lingers  upon  earth. 
Closed  in  this  dark  abode  of  clay, 

The  stream  of  glory  faintly  burns : — 
Not  unobserved,  the  lucid  ray 

To  its  own  native  fount  returns. 


But  when  the  LORD  of  mortal  breath 
Decrees  his  bounty  to  resume, 

And  points  the  silent  shaft  of  death 
Which  speeds  an  infant  to  the  tomb- 
s' 


30  TO   A   BEREAVED   MOTHER. 

No  passion  fierce,  nor  low  desire, 
Has  quenched  the  radiance  of  the  flame; 

Back  to  its  GOD  the  living  fire 
Reverts,  unclouded  as  it  came. 


Fond  mourner !  be  that  solace  thine  ! 

Let  hope  her  healing  charm  impart, 
And  soothe,  with  melodies  divine, 

The  anguish  of  a  mother's  heart. 
O,  think !  the  darlings  of  thy  love, 

Divested  of  this  earthly  clod, 
Amid  unnumber'd  saints  above, 

Bask  in  the  bosom  of  their  GOD. 


Of  their  short  pilgrimage  on  earth 

Still  tender  images  remain : 
Still,  still  they  bless  thee  for  their  birth, 

Still  filial  gratitude  retain. 
Each  anxious  care,  each  rending  sigh, 

That  wrung  for  them  the  parent's  breast, 
Dwells  on  remembrance  in  the  sky, 

Amid  the  raptures  of  the  blest. 


O'er  thee,  with  looks  of  love,  they  bend ; 

For  thee  the  LORD  of  life  implore  ; 
And  oft,  from  sainted  bliss  descend, 

Thy  wounded  quiet  to  restore. 


TO   A   BEREAVED   MOTHER.  31 

Oft,  in  the  stillness  of  the  night, 

They  smooth  the  pillow  of  thy  bed ; 
Oft,  till  the  morn's  returning  light, 

Still  watchful  hover  o'er  thy  head. 

'."* 

Hark  !  in  such  strains  as  saints  employ, 

They  whisper  to  thy  bosom  peace ; 
Calm  the  perturbed  heart  to  joy, 

And  bid  the  streaming  sorrow  cease. 
Then  dry,  henceforth,  the  bitter  tear : 

Their' part  and  thine  inverted  see : — 
Thou  wert  their  guardian  angel  here, 

They  guardian  angels  now  to  thee. 


32  CHARLES   THE   FIFTH'S  CLOCKS. 

CHARLES  THE  FIFTH'S  CLOCKS. 

WITH  Charles  the  Fifth  art  thou  acquainted,  reader  ? 

Of  Ferdinand  and  Isabel  the  grandson, 

In  ages  past  of  Europe's  realms  file  leader, 

Among  the  mightiest  of  all  ages,  one. 

Spain,  Germany,  his  sceptre  swayed, 

With  feet  victorious  over  France  he  trod, 

Afric'  and  Italy  his  laws  obeyed, 

And  either  India  trembled  at  his  nod. 

Well,  reader,  this  same  monarch  mighty, 

Like  many  of  his  stamp  before, 

Down  to  the  latest  of  the  set 

Whose  names  I  leave  in  blank,  as  yet ! 

And  with  Napoleon  you  may  fill, 

Or  Alexander,  as  you  will ; 

Charles,  seated  upon  all  his  thrones, 

With  all  his  crowns  upon  his  head, 

Built  piles  on  piles  of  human  bones, 

As  if  he  meant  to  reign  the  sovereign  of  the  dead. 

He  kept  the  world  in  uproar  forty  years, 

And  waded  bloody  oceans  through ; 

Feasted  on  widows'  and  on  orphans'  tears, 

And  cities  sacked,  and  millions  slew. 


CHARLES   THE   FIFTH'S   CLOCKS.  33 

And  all  the  pranks  of  conquering  heroes  play'd, 

A  master  workman  at  the  royal  trade, 

The  recipe  approved  time  out  of  mind, 

To  win  the  hearts  of  all  mankind. 

But  heroes,  too,  get  weary  of  their  trade ; 

Charles  had  a  conscience,  and  grew  old ; 

The  gout  sometimes  an  ugly  visit  paid; 

A  voice  within  unwelcome  stories  told, 

That  heroes,  just  like  common  men, 

One  day  must  die  ;  and  then 

Of  what  might  happen  Charles  was  sore  afraid. 

Of  Charles's  wars,  need  little  here  be  said ; 

Their  causes  were  ambition,  avarice,  pride, 

Despotic  empire  o'er  the  world  to  spread, 

Revenge  on  Francis,  who  proclaimed  he  lied, 

And  chiefly  Luther's  heresies  to  quell ; 

To  prove  the  wrong  of  Reformation 

With  fire,  and  sword,  and  desolation, 

And  save  the  souls  of  Protestants  from  hell. 

But  when  the  humor  came  to  save  his  own, 

Charles  stripp'd  off  all  his  royal  robes, 

Dismissed  his  double  globes, 

Cast  down  his  crowns,  descended  from  his  throne, 

And  wit'h  St.  Jerome's  monks  retired,  to  die  alone. 

Charles  had  a  maggot  in  the  mind, 

Restless,  that  needs  must  be  of  something  thinking. 

And  now,  to  keep  his  spirits  from  sinking, 

Employment  often  at  a  loss  to  find, 

Much  of  his  time  he  spent  in  prayer ; 


34  CHARLES   THE    FIFTIl's   CLOCKS. 

In  penance  for  his  evil  deeds, 

In  saying  masses,  and  in  telling  beads; 

In  self-chastisement,  till  he  bled 

A  drop  for  every  ton  of  others  shed ; 

And  much  his  little  garden  claim'd  his  care, 

In  planting  cabbages  and  plucking  seeds ; 

But  these  were  simple  occupations, 

And  Charles,  so  long  in  empire's  toils  immers'd, 

So  deep  in  all  their  intricacies  vers'd, 

Some  pastime  needed,  full  of  complications. 

So  long  his  study  had  been  man, 

His  sport,  his  victim,  man,  of  flesh  and  blood, 

That  now  with  art  mechanic  he  began 

To  fashion  manakins  of  wood. 

Soon  he  became  a  skilful  mechanician, 

And  made  his  mimic  men  with  so  much  art. 

They  made  St.  Jerome's  friars  start, 

And  think  their  royal  master  a  magician, 

Leagued  with  the  mother  of  all  evil ; 

Like  Dr.  Faustus,  soul-bound  to  the  devil. 

At  last  the  fancy  seized  his  brain, 

Of  perfect  instruments  for  keeping  time. 

Watches  and  clocks  he  made,  but  all  in  vain ; 

He  never  could  succeed  to  make  them  chime. 

With  choice  chronometers  he  liird  his  cell ; 

No  two  at  once  would  ever  ring  the  bell. 

Now  mark  the  moral  of  my  tale, 

Which  flash'd  in  sunbeams  upon  Charles's  soul ; 

When  he  whose  chisel  could  prevail 


CHARLES   THE   FIFTH'S   CLOCKS. 


35 


Man's  outward  actions  to  control, 

So  that  his  puppets  seemed  as  good 

As  living  men,  though  made  of  wood, 

Yet  ever  baffled  found  his  skill 

To  mould  two  watches  to  his  will. 

He  smote  his  bosom  with  a  sigh, 

Exclaiming,  "  What  a  dolt  was  I, 

By  force  constraining  men  to  think  alike, 

And  cannot  make  two  clocks  together  sf  k.t  < 


36  RETROSPECTION. 


RETROSPECTION. 

WHEN  life's  fair  dream  has  passed  away 

To  three  score  years  aud  ten, 
Before  we  turn  again  to  clay 

The  lot  of  mortal  men, 
'Tis  wise  a  backward  eye  to  cast 

On  life's  revolving  scene, 
With  calmness  to  review  the  past 

And  ask  what  we  have  been. 

The  cradle  and  the  mother's  breast 

Have  vanish'd  from  the  mind, 
Of  joys  the  sweetest  and  the  best, 

Nor  left  a  trace  behind. 
Maternal  tenderness  and  care 

Were  lavished  all  in  vain — 
Of  bliss,  whatever  was  our  share 

No  vestiges  remain. 

Far  distant,  like  a  beacon  light 
On  ocean's  boundless  waste, 
A  single  spot  appears  in  sight 
Yet  indistinctly  traced. 


RETROSPECTION.  37 

Some  mimic  stage's  thrilling  cry, 

Some  agony  of  fear, 
Some  painted  wonder  to  the  eye, 

Some  trumpet  to  the  ear. 

These  are  the  first  events  of  life 

That  fasten  on  the  brain, 
And  through  the  world's  incessant  strife 

Indelible  remain. 
They  form  the  link  with  ages  past 

From  former  worlds  a  gleam  ; 
With  murky  vapors  overcast, 

The  net-work  of  a  dream. 
4 


f~  .& 


38  TO   THE   SUN-DIAL. 


TO  THE   SUN-DIAL, 

UNDER  THE  WINDOW  OF  THE  HALL  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  REPRESENT 
ATIVES    OF    THE  UNITED  STATES. 

THOU  silent  herald  of  Time's  silent  flight ! 

Say,  could'st  thou  speak,  what  warning  voice  were  thine  t 

Shade,  who  canst  only  show  how  others  shine  ! 
Dark,  sullen  witness  of  resplendent  light 
In  day's  broad  glare,  and  when  the  moontide  bright 

Of  laughing  fortune  sheds  the  ray  divine, 

Thy  ready  favors  cheer  us — but  decline 
The  clouds  of  morning  and  the  gloom  of  night. 
Yet  are  thy  counsels  faithful,  just,  and  wise ; 

They  bid  us  seize  the  moments  as  they  pass — 
Snatch  the  retrieveless  sunbeam  as  it  flies, 

Nor  lose  one  sand  of  life's  revolving  glass — 
Aspiring  still,  with  energy  sublime, 
By  virtuous  deeds  to  give  eternity  to  Time. 


THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF   JUVENAL.  39 


THE  THIRTEENTH  SATIRE  OF  JUVENAL.* 

FROM  Virtue's  paths,  when  hapless  men  depart, 
The  first  avenger  is  the  culprit's  heart ; 
There  sits  a  judge,  from  whose  severe  decree 
No  strength  can  rescue,  and  no  speed  can  flee ; 
A  judge,  unbiass'd  by  the  quibbling  tribe ! 
A  judge,  whom  India's  treasures  cannot  bribe. 

Calvin,  what  thiukest  thou  the  world  will  say, 
To  see  thy  faithless  friend  his  trust  betray  ? 
Yet,  to  thy  fortune,  is  the  breach  but  small ; 
Thy  purse  will  scarcely  feel  the  loss  at  all; 
Nor  are  examples  of  such  baseness  rare  ! 
'Tis  what  in  common  with  thee  thousands  bear ; 
A  single  drop  of  water  from  the  deep ! 
A  single  grain  from  fortune's  boundless  heap. 

Excessive  sorrow  let  us  then  restrain : 
A  man  should  measure  by  the  wound  his  pain ! 

*  THE  ARGUMENT. — Calvinus  had  deposited  a  sum  of  money  In  the 
hands  of  a  friend,  who,  upon  being  required  to  restore  it,  denied  having 
ever  received  the  trust  Calvinus  appears  to  have  been  too  much  affected 
at  this  incident,  and  Juvenal  addressed  to  him  this  Satire,  containing  topics 
of  consolation  to  Calvinus  for  his  loss,  and  of  reproof  for  the  extreme 
sensibility  he  had  manifested  upon  the  occasion. 


40  THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE    OF   JUVENAL. 

Though  keen  thy  sense,  the  smallest  ill  to  meet, 
Must  thy  blood  boil  to  find  thy  friend  a  cheat  ? 
The  sacred  trust  committed  he  denies — 
But,  at  thy  age,  can  treachery  surprise  ? 
When  threescore  winters  thou  hast  left  behind, 
To  long  experience  art  thou  still  so  blind  ? 

Great,  and  prevailing  is  the  sacred  lore, 
Which  Wisdom,  Fortune's  victress,  has  in  store ; 
But  we  consider  likewise  those  as  blest, 
Who  meet  the  woes  of  life  with  placid  breast ; 
Bred  in  life's  school,  who  bend  beneath  her  sway, 
Nor  from  her  yoke  would  draw  their  necks  away. 

Is  there  a  day  so  festive  through  the  year, 
But  frequent  frauds  and  perfidies  appear  ? 
A  single  day,  but  sees  triumphant  vice 
With  lurking  dagger,  or  with  loaded  dice  ? 

Small  is  the  train  who  honor's  path  pursue ; 
The  friends  of  virtue  are  a  chosen  few — 
So  few,  that  gathering  o'er  the  spacious  earth 
A  full  collection  of  untainted  worth, 
Scarce  could  you  find  a  number,  free  from  guile, 
To  match  the  gates  of  Thebes,  or  mouths  of  Nile. 

Such  are  the  horrors  of  our  modern  times, 
They  bleach  the  blackness  of  all  former  crimes. 
The  age  of  iron  has  long  since  been  past, 
And  four  Vesides,  each  blacker  than  the  last; 
A  ninth  succeeds,  compared  with  which,  of  old, 
The  age  of  iron  was  an  age  of  gold  ; 
An  age,  which  nature  dares  not  even  name, 


1 


THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF   JUVENAL.  41 

Nor  yields  a  metal  to  express  its  shame. 

The  faith  of  gods  and  men  our  lips  attest, 

Loud  as  a  great  man's  pimps  applaud  his  jest 

But  hoary  infant ;  art  thou  still  to  know 

With  what  bright  charms  another's  treasures  glow  ? 

Go !  fetch  the  rattle  of  thy  childhood,  go ! 

What  peals  of  laughter  rise  on  every  side ! 

How  all  the  town  thy  simpleness  deride ! 

To  see  thee  ask,  and  with  a  serious  brow, 

That  any  mortal  be  not  perjured  now ; 

To  see  thee  now,  of  any  man  require 

Faith  in  a  god,  and  terror  of  hell-fire. 

These  tenets  truly  our  forefathers  held, 

Ere  from  this  throne  old  Saturn  was  expelled. 

Before  he  laid  his  diadem  aside, 

And  in  the  rustic  sickle  took  a  pride, 

While  Ida's  caves  were  yet  the  haunts  of  Jove, 

Nor  virgin  Juno,  conscious  of  his  love. 

No  revels  then  were  ever  seen  to  rise 

Among  the  heavenly  tenants  of  the  skies ; 

No  Trojan  boy,  no  Hebe's  form  divine, 

To  fill  the  goblets  with  inflaming  wine  ; 

With  unwashed  hands,  no  smutty  Vulcan  came 

To  quaff  the  nectar,  from  his  anvil's  flame. 

Each  god  was  then  content  to  dine  alone, 

Nor  was  our  motley  mob  of  god-heads  known ; 

Small  were  the  numbers  of  the  blest  abode ; 

Nor  weighed  down  wretched  Atlas  with  the  load ; 

No  gloomy  Pluto  ruled  the  realms  of  shade, 


42  THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF  JUVENAL. 

Nor  yet  had  ravished  the  Sicilian  maid. 
Hell  then  no  wheel,  no  rock,  no  furies  bore, 
No  vulture's  pounces  dripped  with  ghostly  gore ; 
But  cheerful  spirits  ranged  the  valleys  gay. 
Nor  of  infernal  monarchs  owned  the  sway. 
A  fraud  was  held  a  wonder  in  that  age ; 
And  in  the  presence  of  a  hoary  sage, 
Had  any  younger  man  to  rise  forborne, 
However  blest  with  ampler  stores  of  corn, 
To  them  a  crime  of  dye  so  black  it  seemed, 
As  by  naught  else  but  death  could  be  redeemed. 
The  like  respect  by  beardless  boys  was  shown 
To  those  whose  faces  were  but  just  o'ergrown ; 
Such  awe  four  years  precedence  could  engage, 
And  youth's  first  blossom  bore  the  fruits  of  age  . 

Now,  if  your  friend  should  not  betray  his  trust, 
But  give  you  back  your  coins  with  all  their  rust, 
It  seems  a  miracle  of  higher  strain, 
Than  all  the  Tuscan  sybil  books  contain, 
And,  in  memorial  of  so  strange  a  deed, 
A  votive  lamb  should  on  the  altar  bleed. 
If  now  mine  eyes  a  man  of  virtue  greet, 
I  think  a  double-headed  child  to  meet 
Not  more  surprising  were  it  to  behold 
A  plough-share  dig  up  fish,  or  mules  with  foal ; 
Earn  fall  in  pebbles,  or  in  wildest  shapes 
Bees,  clustering  on  a  temple's  roof  like  grapes. 
Or  rivers,  rushing  with  tremendous  sweep, 
To  pour  a  milky  torrent  in  the  deep. 


THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF  JUVENAL.  43 

The  loss  of  fifty  ducats  you  deplore, 
See  your  next  neighbor  filched  of  ten  times  more ; 
By  a  like  fraud  behold  a  third  complain 
His  loss  of  all  his  strong-box  could  contain. 
So  prone,  so  ready  are  we  to  despise 
The  single  testimonial  of  the  skies, 
Unless  a  mortal  sanction  too  be  given, 
And  man  confirm  the  evidence  of  Heaven  ! 
Look  !  with  what  seeming  purity  of  breast 
And  steady  face  he  dares  his  faith  attest 
Swears  by  the  solar  beams,  the  bolts  of  Jove, 
And  thy  full  quiver,  huntress  of  the  grove ; 
By  Mars'  lance,  Apollo's  arrows  drear, 
By  Neptune's  trident,  and  Minerva's  spear, 
Alcides'  bow,  and  whatsoe'er  beside 
From  all  heaven's  arsenal  can  be  supplied ; 
And,  if  a  father — sooner  be  my  food 
My  infant's  flesh,  he  cries,  my  drink  his  blood ! 

There  are  who  deem  that  Fortune  governs  all ; 
That  no  Supreme  Disposer  rules  the  ball ; 
That  Nature's  energies  alone  suffice 
To  make  successive  days  and  seasons  rise ; 
Hence,  with  intrepid  brow,  such  men  as  these 
To  sanction  falsehood,  any  altar  seize, 

Another  trembles  lest  the  vengeance  due, 
Of  gods  offended,  should  his  crimes  pursue ; 
Believes  in  gods,  yet  stains  with  guilt  his  soul, 
Aud  thus  attempts  his  terrors  to  control 
"  Deal  with  my  body  as  thou  wilt,"  he  cries, 


44  THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF   JUVENAL. 

"  Great  Isis !  and  with  blindness  strike  my  eyes, 
If  peacefully,  though  blind,  I  may  but  hold 
The  price  of  perjury,  the  pilfered  gold. 
What  is  a  palsied  side,  a  broken  leg, 
Compared  with  indigence,  compelled  to  beg 
The  fleetest  runner  would,  beyond  a  doubt, 
Give  all  his  swiftness  for  a  wealthy  gout ; 
Nay,  should  he  hesitate  in  such  a  case, 
Send  for  his  doctor  and  his  waistcoat  lace ; 
For  what  can  all  his  racing  talent  boot  ? 
A  hungry  stomach  and  a  nimble  foot. 
And  what  avails  the  olive  round  his  head, 
While  puffed  with  glory,  he  must  pine  for  bread  7 
The  anger  of  the  gods,  though  great,  is  slow ; 
Nor  will  their  mercy  doom  to  endless  woe ; 
And  if  they  punish  every  guilty  soul, 
Before  my  turn  comes  what  long  years  may  roll? 
Perhaps  their  wrath  is  pacified  with  ease, 
And  oft  they  overlook  such  faults  as  these ; 
For  the  same  deed,  as  good  or  ill  luck  reigns, 
One  wields  a  sceptre,,  and  one  hangs  in  chains.' 
Thus  having  lulled  his  conscience  to  repose, 
Before  you  to  the  sacred  fane  he  goes ; 
Nay,  drags  you  thither,  with  indignant  ear 
The  oath  of  fraud  and  perfidy  to  hear; 
For,  with  the  multitude,  guilt's  face  of  brass 
For  conscious  innocence  will  often  pass. 
See !  how  he  lays  his  hand  upon  his  heart, 
And  like  a  finished  actor  plays  his  part ! 


THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF   JUVENAL.  45 

You,  plunder'd  of  your  trust,  with  piercing  cries, 
In  vain,  with  voice  like  Stentor,  rend  the  skies, 
Or  rather,  like  old  Homer's  Mars  exclaim, 
"  Hear'st  thou  all  this,  great  Jove,  in  silence  tame, 
When  all  thy  fury,  at  such  vows  accurst, 
From  lips  of  brass  or  marble  ought  to  burst  ? 
Else,  wherefore  burns  our  incense  at  thy  shrine  ? 
Why,  on  thy  altars,  bleed  the  calves  or  swine  ? 
Since  no  distinction,  I  perceive,  were  just, 
Between  your  statues  and  a  dancer's  bust." 

Yet  hear  what  comfort  an  unlettered  friend, 
Though  from  no  school  derived,  can  recommend; 
Who  never  made  the  cynic  rule  his  own, 
Nor  that  of  stoics,  differing  but  in  gown; 
Nor  yet  has  learned  the  maxims  to  obey 
Of  Epicurus,  in  his  garden  gay. 
When  dire  diseases  rack  your  feeble  frame, 
Call  for  some  doctor  of  distinguished  fame ; 
But  in  a  case  like  yours,  of  trifling  pain, 
To  Philip's  pupil  you  may  trust  your  vein. 

Expressly  show  that  since  the  world  began 
A  deed  so  base  was  never  done  by  man ;  • 
Then,  I  object  no  longer,  tear  your  hair, 
And  beat  your  face  and  bosom  in  despair ; 
At  such  a  dread  misfortune  close  your  gates, 
With  lamentation  loud  accuse  the  Fates, 
Heave  deeper  groans,  tears  more  abundant  shed 
For  money  pilfered  than  a  father  dead. 
No  man  in  this  case  feigns  of  grief  a  show ; 


46  THE    THIRTEENTH    SATIRE    OF    JUVENAL. 

Content  to  wear  the  formal  suits  of  woe, 
And  fret  his  eyes  to  strain  a  seeming  tear, 
No !  for  lost  gold  our  SOITOWS  are  sincere ! 

But  if  the  like  complaint  with  yours  you  meet, 
Where'er  you  turn  your  eyes  in  every  street ; 
If  every  day  shows  men  who  boldly  dare 
Their  own  hand-writing  to  a  bond  forswear ; 
Proved  by  ten  witnesses  their  deed  deny, 
And  gravely  give  their  solemn  seal  the  lie, 
Must  thou  from  common  miseries  be  free  ? 
And  art  thou  formed  of  better  clay  than  we  ? 
Thou,  favored  by  the  gods  with  special  grace ; 
We,  the  vile  refuse  of  a  worthless  race  ? 

Thine  eyes  to  crimes  of  deeper  baseness  turn, 
And  thy  small  loss  to  bear  with  patience  learn ; 
See  this  man's  slave  with  robber  bands  conspire, 
Behold  that  mansion  blaze  with  bidden  fire : 
See,  from  yon  antique  temple  stolen  away, 
The  massive  goblet,  venerably  gray ! 
Gifts  from  which  nations  once  derived  renown, 
Or  some  old  monarch's  consecrated  crown. 
Are  these  not  there  1  behold  the  villain  ply 
To  rasp  Jhe  gilding  from  Alcides'  thigh, 
Strike  off  the  nose  from  Neptune's  aged  form, 
Or  strip  the  bracelet  from  young  Castor's  arm ; 
Why  should  he  dread  of  minor  gods  the  frown, 
Wont  the  whole  thunderer  bravely  to  melt  down  ? 

The  guilt  of  blood  see  other  wretches  share, 
And  one  the  poison  sell,  and  one  prepare ! 


THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF  JUVENAL.  47 

See,  to  a  harmless,  hapless,  monkey  tied, 

Plunged  in  the  briny  deep  the  parricide ; 

Yet  in  this  list  how  small  a  part  appear 

Of  all  the  crimes  that  meet  the  Prater's  ear, 

And  he  from  Hesper's  dawn  till  closing  day  must  hear. 

The  manners  of  mankind  wouldst  thou  be  taught, 

With  full  instruction  that  one  house  is  fraught ; 

But  a  few  days  attend  the  trials  there, 

And  then  to  call  thyself  unhappy,  dare. 

Who  feels  astonishment  affect  his  mind 
Amidst  the  Alps  a  tumid  throat  to  find  ? 
Or  who  behold  in  Meroe,  with  surprise, 
A  dug  surpass  the  child  it  feeds  in  size  ? 
On  seeing  Germans,  who  would  think  to  stare 
At  azure  eyes  and  golden-colored  hair, 
And  crisped  locks,  with  ointments  which  distill? 
Such  they  were  made  by  Nature's  sovereign  will 
Clap  but  a  cloud  of  Thracian  cranes  their  wings, 
Lo !  to  his  arms  the  pigmy  warrior  springs ! 
But  soon,  unequal  to  resistance,  flies, 
Clenched  in  relentless  clutches  through  the  skies. 
Among  ourselves  a  sight  like  this  would  make 
Your  sides,  no  doubt,  with  ceaseless  laughter  shake ; 
But  there,  though  common,  'tis  no  laughing  sight, 
Where  the  whole  tribe  is  not  a  foot  in  height. 

"  But  shall  the  wretch  all  penalties  evade, 
For  friendship  perjur'd,  and  for  trust  betrayed?" 
Suppose  him  seized,  in  chains,  and  at  your  will, 
(What  would  vindictive  anger  more  ?)  to  kill ; 


48  THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF   JUVENAL. 

Yet  would  your  damage  still  the  same  remain. 
Nor  could  his  death  restore  the  trust  again ; 
How  poor  a  comfort,  to  relieve  your  woe, 
The  blood  that  from  his  headless  trunk  would  flow ! 

"  But  vengeance,  even  more  than  life,  is  sweet ;" 
Yes !  to  those  minds  of  heedless,  headlong  heat, 
Which  blaze  at  every  spark,  however  small, 
And  often  kindle  without  cause  at  all : 
Not  Thales  thus,  nor  thus  Chrysippus  speaks, 
Not  thus  the  best  and  wisest  of  the  Greeks— 
The  godlike  Socrates — who,  galled  with  chains, 
To  share  the  hemlock  with  his  foe  disdains. 
True  wisdom  points  to  virtue's  path,  and  frees 
From  every  vice  and  error,  by  degrees ; 
The  noble  soul  above  revenge  we  find, 
'Tis  the  poor  pleasure  of  a  puny  mind : 
If  proof  you  need,  contemplate  female  spite ; 
In  vengeance  none  like  women  take  delight. 

But,  canst  thou  deem  from  all  chastisement  freed 
Men  who  beneath  the  scourge  of  conscience  bleed  T 
By  scorpions  stung,  their  teeth  in  fury  gnash, 
And  writhe  with  anguish  at  the  secret  lash  ? 
Oh!  trust  me,  friend,  the  judge  in  hell  below 
Cannot  on  crimes  inflict  so  deep  a  woe 
As  that  poor  mortal  feels,  by  guilt  oppressed, 
Doomed  day  and  night  to  bear  the  witness  in  his  breast. 

A  Spartan  once  to  Delphi's  fane  repaired, 
And  to  consult  the  god's  opinion  dared, 
Whether  he  might  retain  entrusted  gold, 


THE  THIRTEENTH  SA7IRE   OF  JUVENAL.  49 


And  with  a  solemn  oath  the  fraud  uphold ! 

The  priestess  answered,  with  indignant  air, 

The  doubt  alone  its  punishment  should  bear ; 

Th'  insulting  doubt  that  in  the  question  lies, 

If  great  Apollo  would  a  crime  advise. 

The  frightened  Spartan,  by  compulsion  just, 

From  fear,  not  virtue,  straight  restored  the  trust ; 

Yet  soon  he  found,  that,  from  the  sacred  fane, 

His  doom  deserved  was  not  denounced  in  vain : 

Himself,  his  offspring,  all  his  hapless  race, 

Swept  from  the  earth,  left  not  behind  a  trace. 

By  such  hard  penalties  must  men  atone 

The  fault  of  meditated  wrong  alone ; 

He  guilt  incurs  who  merely  guilt  intends — 

How  much  more  he,  then,  who  in  act  offends  ? 

Perpetual  anguish  preys  upon  his  breast, 

Nor,  even  at  his  meals,  allows  him  rest. 

His  sickened  palate,  nauseating,  heaves 

At  every  morsel  that  his  mouth  receives  j 

Loathes  the  fine  fragrance  of  long-hoarded  vines. 

The  cordial  drop,  distilled  from  Alban  wines ; 

While  his  knit  brows,  if  choicer  still  you  bring, 

Of  sour  Falernian  seem  to  mark  the  sting. 

At  night,  if  when  his  limbs  have  long  been  spread, 

In  restless  tossmgs,  over  all  his  bed, 

Short  slumber  comes  at  last  to  close  his  eyes, 

In  dreams  he  sees  the  hallowed  temple  rise 

Before  him  violated  altars  stand, 

And  gods  offended,  with  uplifted  hand ; 


50  THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIRE   OF   JUVENAL. 

But,  what  his  breast  with  torture  chiefly  rends 
Larger  than  life  thy  sacred'form  ascends, 
With  deadly  fears  his  dastard  soul  to  press, 
And  force  his  lips  their  falsehood  to  confess. 
Heaven's  earliest  murmurs  cause  his  heart  to  fail 
And  every  flash  of  lightning  turns  him  pale; 
By  storms  or  chance  impelled,  no  bolts  can  fly, 
He  thinks,  but  vengeance  hurls  it  from  on  high. 
If,  yet  unhurt,  he  sees  one  storm  pass  o'er. 
He  only  trembles  at  the  next  the  more. 
If  in  his  side  he  feels  the  slightest  pains, 
Or  sleepless  fever  riot  in  his  veins, 
The  weapons  of  a  god  he  fancies  these, 
Sent  to  afflict  his  body  with  disease. 
For  health  he  dares  not  ask  the  powers  divine, 
With  votive  offerings  at  the  sacred  shrine ; 
For  oh !  what  mercy  can  the  guilty  mind, 
In  illness,  hope  from  angry  heaven  to  find  1 
What  bleeding  victims  for  his  crimes  atone, 
Whose  life  were  not  more  precious  than  his  ow*  T 

With  what  a  changeful,  sickliness  of  soul, 
The  varying  tempers  of  the  wicked  roll  i 
Crimes  to  commit  how  bold  they  are  and  strong  • 
But  soon  they  learn  to  know  the  right  from  wrong. 
Yet  stubborn  nature  all  amendment  spurns, 
And  to  her  evil  practices  returns. 
For  what  offender  ever  yet  was  found 
Who  to  his  vices  could  prescribe  a  bound? 
The  blush  of  shame,  when  once  expelled  the  face, 


THE   THIRTEENTH   SATIKE    OF  JUVENAL. 


51 


Who  ever  saw  it  reassume  its  place  ? 

In  all  thy  life's  experience,  hast  thou  knowa 

A  man  contented  with  one  crime  alone  1 

The  wretch  who  wronged  you,  in  the  toils  soon  caught, 
Shall  to  some  prison's  gloomy  cell  be  brought ; 
Or  to  some  dreary  rock  of  banishment, 
For  famous  exiles  noted,  shall  be  sent ; 
Then  shall  the  sufferings  of  your  perjured  foe 
Sweet  consolation  on  your  soul  bestow; 
And  then,  at  last,  shall  your  rejoicing  mind 
Confess  the  gods  are  neither  deaf  nor  blind. 


52      VERSION  OP  THE  HUNDRED  SEVENTH  PSALM. 


VERSION  OF  THE  ONE  HUNDRED  SEVENTH 
PSALM. 


0  THAT  the  race  of  men  would  raise 

Their  voices  to  their  heavenly  King, 
And  with  the  sacrifice  of  praise 

The  glories  of  Jehovah  sing ! — 
Ye  navigators  of  the  sea, 

Your  course  on  ocean's  tides  who  keep, 
And  there  Jehovah's  wonders  see, 

His  wonders  in  the  briny  deep ! 

He  speaks ;  conflicting  whirlwinds  fly ; 

The  waves  in  swelling  torrents  flow; 
They  mount,  aspire  to  heaven  on  high ; 

They  sink,  as  if  to  hell  below: 
Their  souls  with  terror  melt  away ; 

They  stagger  as  if  drunk  with  wine 
Their  skill  is  vain, — to  thee  they  pray ; 

O,  save  them,  Energy  divine  ! 

He  stays  the  storm;  the  waves  subside; 

Their  hearts  with  rapture  are  inspired } 
Soft  breezes  waft  them  o'er  the  tide, 

In  gladness,  to  their  port  desired: 


VERSION   OF  THE  HUNDRED  SEVENTH  PSALM.       53 

O  that  mankind  the  song  would  raise, 

Jehovah's  goodness  to  proclaim ! 
Assembled  nations  shout  his  praise, 

Assembled  elders  bless  his  name ! 
5* 


54 


THE   HOUR-GLASS. 


THE  HOUR-GLASS. 

ALAS  !  how  swift  the  moments  fly ! 
How  flash  the  years  along ! 

Scarce  here,  yet  gone  already  by, 
The  burden  of  a  song. 

See  childhood,  youth,  and  manhood  pass, 
And  age,  with  furrowed  brow ; 

Time  was— Time  shall  be— drab  the  glass- 
But  where  in  Time  is  now? 

Time  is  the  measure  but  of  change ; 

No  present  hour  is  found ; 
The  past,  the  future,  fill  the  range 

Of  Time's  unceasing  round. 
Where,  then,  is  now  ?     In  realms  above, 

With  God's  atoning  Lamb 
In  regions  of  eternal  love, 

Where  sits  enthroned  I  AM. 

Then,  pilgrim,  let  thy  joys  and  tears 

On  Time  no  longer  lean ; 
Bat  henceforth  all  thy  hopes  and  fears 

From  earth's  affections  wean : 


THE   HOUR-GLASS. 


55 


To  God  let  votive  accents  rise ; 

With  truth,  witn  virtue,  live ; 
So  all  the  bliss  that  Time  denies 

Eternity  shall  give. 


58  SABBATH   MORNING. 


SABBATH  MORNING 

55 
HARK  !  'tis  the  holy  temple's  bell  j 

The  voice  that  summons  me  to  prayer : 
My  heart,  each  roving  fancy  quell; 

Come,  to  the  house  of  God  repair. 

44 
There,  while,  in  orison  sublime, 

Souls  to  the  throne  of  God  ascend, 
Let  no  unhallowed  child  of  time 

Profane  pollutions  with  them  blend. 

44 

How  for  thy  wants  canst  thou  implore, 
Crave  for  thy  frailties  pardon  free, 

Of  praise  the  votive  tribute  pour, 
Or  bend,  in  thanks,  the  grateful  knee,— • 

66 
If,  from  the  awful  King  of  kings, 

Each  bauble  lures  thy  soul  astray; 
If  to  this  dust  of  earth  it  clings, 

And,  fickle,  flies  from  heaven  away ; 


SABBATH  MORNING. 


57 


Pore  as  the  blessed  seraph's  vow, 
O,  let  the  sacred  concert  rise ; 

Intent  with  humble  rapture  bow, 
Adore  the  ruler  of  the  skies. 


Bid  earth-born  atoms  all  depart ; 

Within  thyself  collected,  fall; 
And  give  one  day,  rebellious  heart, 

Unsullied  to  the  Lord  of  all 


58  THE   DEATH   OF    CHILDREN. 

THE  DEATH  OF  CHILDREN. 

SURE,  to  the  mansions  of  the  blest 
When  infant  innocence  ascends, 

Some  angel  brighter  than  the  rest 
The  spotless  spirit's  flight  attends. 

On  wings  of  ecstasy  they  rise, 

Beyond  where  worlds  material  roll 

Till  some  fair  sister  of  the  skies 
Receives  the  unpolluted  soul 

There,  at  the  Almighty  Father's  hand, 
Nearest  the  throne  of  living  light, 

The  choirs  of  infant  seraphs  stand, 
And  dazzling  shine,  where  all  are  bright 

That  inextinguishable  beam, 
With  dust  united  at  our  birth, 

Sheds  a  more  dim,  discolored  gleam, 
The  more  it  lingers  upon  earth. 


THE   DEATH   OF    CHILDREN.  59 

Closed  in  this  dark  abode  of  clay, 

The  stream  of  glory  faintly  burns, 
Nor  unobscured  the  lucid  ray 

To  its  own  native  fount  returns. 

But  when  the  Lord  of  mortal  breath 

Decrees  his  bounty  to  resume. 
And  points  the  silent  shaft  of  death, 

Which  speeds  an  infant  to  the  tomb — 

No  passion  fierce,  no  low  desire, 

Has  quenched  the  radiance  of  the  flame ; 

Back  to  its  God  the  living  fire 
Returns  unsullied,  as  it  came 


60  WRITTEN  IN    SICKNESS. 


WRITTEN  IN  SICKNESS. 

LORD  of  all  worlds,  let  thanks  and  praise 

To  thee  forever  fill  my  soul; 
With  blessings  thou  hast  crowned  my  days— 

My  heart,  my  head,  my  hand  control : 
O,  let  no  vain  presumption  rise,    * 

No  impious  murmur  in  my  heart, 
To  crave  the  boon  thy  will  denies, 

Or  shrink  from  ill  thy  hands  impart. 

Thy  child  am  I,  and  not  an  hour, 

Revolving  in  the  orbs  above, 
But  brings  some  token  of  thy  power, 

But  brings  some  token  of  thy  love : 
And  shall  this  bosom  dare  repine, 

In  darkness  dare  deny  the  dawn, 
Or  spurn  the  treasures  of  the  mine, 

Because  one  diamond  is  withdrawn  ? 

The  fool  denies,  the  fool  alone, 

Thy  being,  Lord,  and  boundless  might, 

Denies  the  firmament,  thy  throne, 
Denies  the  sun's  meridian  light; 


WRITTEN  IN  SICKNESS. 

Denies  the  fashion  of  his  frame, 

The  voice  he  hears,  the  breath  he  draws ; 
O  idiot  atheist !  to  proclaim 

Effects  unnumbered  without  cause. 

Matter  and  mind,  mysterious  one, 

Are  man's  for  threescore  years  and  ten ; 
Where,  ere  the  thread  of  life  was  spun  ? 

Where,  when  reduced  to  dust  again  T 
All-seeing  God,  the  doubt  suppress ; 

The  doubt  thou  only  canst  relieve ; 
My  soul  thy  Saviour-Son  shall  bless, 

Fly  to  thy  gospel,  and  believe. 


61 


62      HYMN  FOE  THE  TWENTY-SECOND  OF  DECEMBER. 


HYMN    FOR    THE    TWENTY-SECOND    OF 
DECEMBER. 


WHEN  o'er  the  billow-heaving  deep, 

The  fathers  of  our  race, 
The  precepts  of  their  God  to  keep, 

Sought  here  their  resting-place — 

That  gracious  God  their  path  prepared, 

Preserved  from  every  harm, 
And  still  for  their  protection  bared 

His  everlasting  arm. 

His  breath,  inspiring  every  gale, 

Impels  them  o'er  the  main ; 
His  guardian  angels  spread  the  sail, 

And  tempests  howl  in  vain. 

For  them  old  ocean's  rocks  are  smoothed 
December's  face  grows  mild ; 

To  vernal  airs  her  blasts  are  soothed, 
And  all  their  rage  beguiled. 


HYMN  FOR  THE  TWENTY-SECOND  OF  DECEMBER.      63 

When  Famine  rolls  her  haggard  eyes, 

His  ever-bounteous  hand 
Abundance  from  the  sea  supplies, 

And  treasures  from  the  sand. 

Nor  yet  his  tender  mercies  cease ; 

His  overruling  plan 
Inclines  to  gentleness  and  peace 

The  heart  of  savage  man. 

And  can  our  stony  bosoms  be 

To  all  these  wonders  blind  ? 
Nor  swell  with  thankfulness  to  thee, 

O  Parent  of  mankind? 

All-gracious  God,  inflame  our  zeal ; 

Dispense  one  blessing  more ; 
Grant  us  thy  boundless  love  to  feel, 

Thy  goodness  to  adore. 


64  O  GOD,  WITH  GOODNESS  ALL    THY  OWN. 


O  GOJ);  WITtt/OODNESS  ALL  THY  OWN. 

0  GOD,  with  goodness  all  thy  own, 

ifia  mercy  cause  thy  face  to  shine ; 
So  shall  thy  ways  on  earth  be  known, 

Thy  saving  health  and  power  divine: 
O,  let  the  gladdening  nations  sing, 

And  praise  thy  name  with  hallowed  mirth, 
For  thou  of  righteousness  art  King, 

And  rulest  all  the  subject  earth. 


O,  let  the  people  praise  the  Lord ; 

The  people  all  thy  praise  express ; 
And  earth  her  plenty  shall  afford, 

And  God,  yea,  our  own  God,  shall  bless ; 
Oar  God  his  blessing  shall  bestow ; 

His  power,  his  goodness,  shall  appear ; 
And  all  the  ends  of  earth  shall  know 

And  worship  him  with  holy  fear. 


SING  TO   JEHOVAH  A   NEW  SONG.  65 


SING  TO  JEHOVAH  A  NEW  SONG. 

SING  to  Jehovah  a  new  song, 

For  deeds  of  wonder  he  hath  done ; 
His  arm  in  holiness  is  strong ; 

His  hand  the  victory  hath  won : 
The  Lord  salvation  hath  made  known ; 

His  goodness  o'er  the  world  extends ; 
His  truth  to  Israel's  house  is  shown ; 

His  power  to  earth's  remotest  ends. 

Shout  to  Jehovah,  all  the  earth, 

Break  forth  in  joy,  exult,  and  sing; 
Let  voice,  let  clarion  speak  your  mirth, 

Trumpet  and  harp  proclaim  your  King : 
Roar,  ocean,  to  thy  lowest  deep ; 

Shout,  earth,  and  all  therein  that  dwell ; 
Floods,  clap  your  hands  as  on  you  sweep : 

Mountains,  the  choral  anthem  swell. 

Let  heaven,  and  earth,  and  sea,  combine, 

Jehovah's  holy  name  to  bless ; 
Creation  owns  his  power  divine, 

The  universe  his  righteousness  ; 


66  SINO   TO   JEHOVAH   A   NEW   SONG. 

He  comes  in  judgment  to  display 
Resistless  right  and  boundless  grace 

The  world  with  equity  to  sway, 
And  blessings  shed  o'er  all  our  race. 


O,  ALL  YE  PEOPLE  CLAP  TOUR  HANDS.     67 


O,  ALL  YE  PEOPLE,  CLAP  YOUR  HANDS. 

O,  ALI,  ye  people,  clap  your  bands, 

Shout  unto  God  with  holy  mirth ; 
In  fearful  majesty  he  stands ; 

He  is  the  Monarch  of  the  earth : 
Before  us  nations  he  subdues, 

And  prostrates  kingdoms  at  our  feet ; 
For  us  a  portion  he  shall  choose 

In  favored  Jacob's  chosen  seat. 

God,  with  a  shout,  to  heaven  ascends ; 

Sing  praises  to  our  God  and  King : 
Hark !  the  loud  tempest  ether  rends ; 

Sing  praises,  praises,  praises  sing. 
His  power  Creation's  orb  sustains ; 

Sing  hymns  of  praise  to  him  alone : 
Jehovah  o'er  the  nations  reigns ; 

He  sits  upon  his  holy  throne. 

See  gathering  princes,  men  of  might, 
In  crowds  from  earth's  remotest  shore, 

With  us  in  worship  all  unite, 

And  Abraham's  God  with  us  adore : 


O,  ALL  YE  PEOPLE,   CLAP  TOTTE   HANDS. 

The  shields  of  earth  are  all  his  own, 
And,  far  o'er  human  ken  sublime, 

Eternal  pillars  prop  his  throne, 

Beyond  the  bounds  of  space  and  time. 


TURN  TO  THE  STARS  OF  HEAVEN  THINE  EYES.   69 

" 

TURN  TO  THE  STARS  OF  HEAVEN  THINE 
EYES. 

TURN  to  the  stars  of  heaven  thine  eyes, 

And  God  shall  meet  thee  there  ; 
Exalt  thy  vision  to  the  skies, 

His  glory  they  declare ; 
Day  speaks  to  day,  night  teaches  night, 

The  wonders  of  their  frame, 
And  all  in  harmony  unite 

Their  Maker  to  proclain. 

Earth  has  no  language,  man  no  speech, 

But  gives  their  voice  a  tongue ; 
Their  words  the  world's  foundations  reach; 

Their  hymn  in  heaven  is  sung ; 
Pavilioned  there  in  glory  bright, 

As  from  a  blooming  bride, 
The  sun  comes  forth  in  floods  of  light, 

With  all  a  bridegroom's  pride. 

Glad,  like  a  giant  for  the  race, 

His  orient  flame  ascends, 
Soars  through  the  boundless  realms  of  space, 

And  in  the  west  descends ; 

& 


70       TUBN  TO  THE  STARS  OF  HEAVEN  THINE  EYES. 


His  heat  the  vital  lamp  bestows, 
The  firmament  pervades, 

In  ocean's  darkest  caverns  glows, 
And  earth's  profoundest  shades. 


O  LORD  MY  GOD  !  HOW  GREAT  ART  THOU !    71 


O  LORD  MY  GOD!  HOW  GREAT  ART  THOU  I 

55 
O  LORD  my  God !  how  great  art  thon ! 

With  honor  and  with  glory  crowned ; 
Light's  dazzling  splendors  veil  thy  brow, 

And  gird  the  universe  around. 

66 
Spirits  and  angels  thou  hast  made ; 

Thy  ministers  a  flaming  fire ; 
By  thee  were  earth's  foundations  laid ; 

At  thy  rebuke  the  floods  retire. 

44 

Thine  are  the  fountains  of  the  deep ; 

By  thee  their  waters  swell  or  fail ; 
Up  to  the  mountain's  summit  creep, 

Or  shrink  beneath  the  lowly  vale. 

44 
Thy  fingers  mark  their  utmost  bound ; 

That  bound  the  waters  may  not  pass ; 
Their  moisture  swells  the  teeming  ground, 

And  paints  the  valleys  o'er  with  grass. 


72    O  LORD  MY  GOD!  HOW  GREAT  ART  THOU ! 


The  waving  harvest,  Lord,  is  thine ; 

The  vineyard,  and  the  olive's  juice  ; 
Corn,  wine,  and  oil,  by  thee  combine, 

Life,  gladness,  beauty,  to  produce. 

The  moon  for  seasons  thou  hast  made, 
The  sun  for  change  of  day  and  night ; 

Of  darkness  thine  the  deepest  shade, 
And  thine  the  day's  meridian  light. 

O  Lord,  thy  works  are  all  divine ; 

In  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all ; 
Earth's  teeming  multitudes  are  thine ; 

Thine— peopled  ocean's  great  and  small. 

All  these  on  thee  for  life  depend  ; 

Thy  spirit  speaks,  and  they  are  born ; 
They  gather  what  thy  bounties  send  ; 

Thy  hand  of  plenty  fills  the  horn. 

Thy  face  is  hidden — they  turn  pale, 
With  terror  quake,  with  anguish  burn ; 

Their  breath  thou  givest  to  the  gale ; 
They  die,  and  to  their  dust  return. 

And  thou,  my  soul,  with  pure  delight, 
Thy  voice  to  bless  thy  Maker  raise ; 

His  praise  let  morning  sing  to  night, 
And  night  to  morn  repeat  his  praise. 


O   LORD,   THY  ALi,-i»ISCERNING  EYES.  73 


O  LOKIVBH-Y  ALL-DISCERNING  EYES. 

O  LORD,  thy  all-discerning  eyes 

My  inmost  purpose  see ; 
My  deeds,  my  words,  my  thoughts,  arise 

Alike  disclosed  to  thee : 
My  sitting  down,  my  rising  up, 

Broad  noon,  and  deepest  night, 
My  path,  my  pillow,  and  my  cup, 

Are  open  to  thy  sight. 

Before,  behind,  I  meet  thine  eye, 

And  feel  thy  heavy  hand : 
Such  knowledge  is  for  me  too  high, 

To  reach  or  understand : 

4 

What  of  thy  wonders  can  I  know  t 

What  of  thy  purpose  see  ? 
Where  from  thy  spirit  shall  I  go  1 

Where  from  thy  presence  flee  ? 

If  I  ascend  to  heaven  on  high, 

Or  make  my  bed  in  hell ; 
Or  take  the  morning's  wings,  and  fly 

O'er  ocean's  bounds  to  dwell ; 


74  O   LORD,   THY  ALL-DISCERNING   EYES. 

Or  seek,  from  thee,  a  hiding-place 
Amid  the  gloom  of  night — 

Alike  to  thee  are  time  and  space, 
The  darkness  and  the  light. 


MY  SOTTL,   BEFORE   THY  MAKER  KNEEL.  75 

MY  SOUL,  BEFORE  THY  MAKER  KNEEL. 

Mr  soul,  before  thy  Maker  kneel ; 

His  name  let  all  within  me  bless ; 
'Tis  he  the  wounded  heart  shall  heal ; 

'Tis  he  shall  comfort  in  distress : 
My  soul,  his  name  forget  not  thou, 

Who  e'en  in  tender  mercy  frowns, 
Forgives  thy  oft-forgotten  vow, 

And  still  thy  lips  with  blessing  crowns. 

The  Lord  of  mercy  and  of  grace, 

To  kindness  swift,  to  anger  slow, 
Not  always  wears  a  chiding  face, 

Not  always  bends  the  avenging  bow : 
Above  the  earth  as  heaven  is  high, 

Above  our  crimes  his  mercies  rise : 
We  sin — but  pardon  still  is  nigh ; 

Fools — he  rewards  us  as  the  wise. 

Far  distant  as  the  adverse  poles, 

Oar  sins  he  scatters  to  the  wild, 
Pities  the  frailties  of  our  souls — 

A  father's  pity  for  his  child : 


76  MY   SOUL,   BEFORE   THY   MAKER   KNEEL. 

He  knows  our  frame  ; — our  days  are  grass } 
The  fading  floweret's  bloom  is  o'er ; 

Let  but  a  breeze  of  morning  pass, 
The  place  shall  never  know  it  more. 

But  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  time 

The  mercies  of  the  Lord  are  sure ; 
Throughout  eternity  sublime 

His  truth  and  justice  shall  endure : 
His  grace  of  those  who  keep  his  law 

Shall  on  the  children's  children  fall ; 
His  throne  high  heaven  beholds  with  awe ; 

His  kingdom  ruleth  over  all. 

'  '•)«. 


FOR  THEE   IN   ZION   WAITETH  PRAISE.  77 

"    -Vr-  v 

FOR  THEE  IN  ZION  WAITETH  PRAISE. 

FOR  thee  in  Zion  waiteth  praise, 

O  God,  0  thou  that  hearest  prayer ; 
To  thee  the  suppliant  voice  we  raise ; 

To  thee  shall  all  mankind  repair. 
On  thee  the  ends  of  earth  rely ; 

In  thee  the  distant  seas  confide ; 
By  thee  the  mountains  brave  the  sky, 

And  girded  by  thy  strength  abide. 

Thou  speakest  to  the  tempest  peace ; 

The  roaring  wave  obeys  thy  nod ; 
The  tumults  of  the  people  cease ; 

Earth  trembles  at  the  voice  of  God : 
The  morning's  dawn,  the  evening's  shade, 

Alike  thy  power  with  gladness  see ; 
The  fields  from  thee  the  rains  receive, 

And  swell  with  fruitfulness  by  thee. 

Thy  river,  gracious  God,  o'erflows ; 

Its  streams  for  human  wants  provide  5 
At  thy  command  the  harvest  grows, 

By  thy  refreshing  showers  supplied : 


78  FOR   THEE    IN   ZION  WAITETH   PRAISE. 

Thy  bounty  clothes  the  plains  with  grass ; 

Thy  path  drops  fatness  as  it  goes ; 
And  wheresoe'er  thy  footsteps  pass, 

The  desert  blossoms  like  the  rose. 

i 

Thy  goodness  crowns  the  circling  year ; 

The  wilderness  repeats  thy  voice ; 
The  mountains  clad  with  flocks  appear ; 

The  hills  on  every  side  rejoice ; 
And  harvests  from  the  valleys  spring ; 

The  reaper's  sickle  they  employ ; 
And,  hark !  how  hill  and  valley  ring 

With  universal  shouts  of  joy ! 


MY  SHEPHERD   IS   THE   LORD  ON  HIGH.  79 

MY  SHEPHERD  IS  THE  LORD  ON  HIGH. 

MY  Shepherd  is  the  Lord  on  high ; 

His  hand  supplies  me  still ; 
In  pastures  green  he  makes  me  lie, 

Beside  the  rippling  rill : 
He  cheers  my  soul,  relieves  my  woes, 

His  glory  to  display ; 
The  paths  of  righteousness  he  shows, 

And  leads  me  in  his  way. 

Though  walking  through  death's  dismal  shade, 

No  evil  will  I  fear; 
Thy  rod,  thy  staff  shall  lend  me  aid, 

For  thou  art  ever  near : 
For  me  a  table  thou  dost  spread 

In  presence  of  my  foes ; 
With  oil  thou  dost  anoint  my  head ; 

By  thee  my  cup  o'erflows. 

Thy  goodness  and  thy  mercy  snre 

Shall  bless  me  all  my  days ; 
And  I,  with  lips  sincere  and  pure, 

Will  celebrate  thy  praise.  { 


80  MY  SHEPHERD   IS   THE   LORD   ON   HIGH. 

Yes,  in  the  temple  of  the  Lord 

Forever  I  will  dwell  j 
<To  after  time  thy  name  record, 

And  of  thy  glory  tell. 


SEND  FORTH,  0  GOD,  THY  TRUTH  AND  LIGHT.         81 


SEND  FORTH,  O  GOD,  THY  TRUTH  AND 
LIGHT. 

SEND  forth,  O  God,  thy  truth  and  light, 

And  let  them  lead  me  still, 
Undaunted,  in  the  paths  of  right, 

Up  to  thy  holy  hill : 
Then  to  thy  altar  will  I  spring, 

And  in  my  God  rejoice 
And  praise  shall  tune  the  trembling  string, 

And  gratitude  my  voice. 

O  why,  my  soul,  art  thou  cast  down  1 

Within  me  why  distressed  ? 
Thy  hopes  the  God  of  grac  3  shall  crown ; 

He  yet  shall  make  thee  blessed ; 
To  him,  my  never-failing  Friend, 

I  bow,  and  kiss  the  rod ; 
To  him  shall  thanks  and  praise  ascend, 

My  Saviour  and  my  God. 


82    O  JUDGE  ME,  LORD,  FOR  THOU  ART  JUST, 


O  JUDGH  ME,  LORD,  FOR  THOU  ART  JUST. 

O  JUDGE  me,  Lord,  for  thou  art  just ; 

Thy  statutes  are  my  pride ; 
In  thee  alone  I  pat  my  trust ; 

I  therefore  shall  not  slide : 

0  prove  me,  try  my  reins  and  heart ; 
Thy  mercies,  Lord,  I  know ; 

1  never  took  the  scorner's  part, 
Nor  with  the  vain  will  go. 

Of  sinners  I  detest  the  bands, 

Nor  with  them  will  offend ; 
In  innocence  will  wash  my  hands, 

And  at  thine  altar  bend ; 
There,  with  thanksgiving's  grateful  voice, 

Thy  wondrous  works  will  tell » 

I  love  the  mansions  of  thy  choice, 

r  /sjX     And  where  thine  honors  dwell. 


O  HEAL  ME,   LORD,   FOR   I  AM  WEAK.  83 


O  HEAL  ME,  LORD,  FOR  I  AM  WEAK. 

O  HEAL  me,  Lord,  for  I  am  weak ; 

My  bones  are  vexed  with  pain ; 
Let  not  thy  hot  displeasure  speak ; 

Thy  burning  wrath  restrain. 
My  soul  what  sore  vexations  try ! 

How  long  shall  they  assail  1 
Return,  and  listen  to  my  cry ; 

Let  mercy,  Lord,  prevail. 

Of  thee  no  memory  remains 

In  death's  relentless  cave  ; 
To  thee  ascend  no  grateful  strains 

Of  glory  from  the  grave : 
With  ceaseless  pain  I  groan  and  weep, 

So  cruel  are  my  foes ; 
My  very  couch  in  tears  I  steep, 

My  bed  with  grief  o'erflows. 

Depart  from  me,  all  who  rejoice 

Iniquity  to  share ; 
The  Lord  hath  heard  my  moaning  voice, 

And  listened  to  my  prayer ; 


84  O  HEAL  ME,   LORD,    FOR  I  AM  WEAK. 

What  though  my  foes  despise  the  Lord, 
And  my  destruction  plot  t    " 

Vexation  shall  be  their  reward, 
And  sudden  shame  their  lot 


BLEST  IS  THE   MORTAL  WHOSE    DELIGHT.  85 


BLEST  IS   THE  MORTAL  WHOSE  DELIGHT 

BLEST  is  the  mortal  whose  delight 

Is  in  the  precepts  of  the  Lord, 
Who  meditates  them  day  and  night, 

And  hears  the  holy  gospel's  word ; 
From  the  blasphemer's  counsel  turns, 

Disdains  his  slanders  to  repeat, 
The  luring  path  of  sinners  spurns, 

Nor  sits  upon  the  scorner's  seat. 

For  him  prosperity  shall  flow ; 

Whate'er  he  undertakes  shall  thrive ; 
But  with  the  wicked  'tis  not  so ; 

Like  chaff  before  the  wind  they  drive: 
He,  like  the  fruit-tree's  planted  stem, 

Beside  the  river's  brink  shall  bear, 
While  the  green  leaf  shall  fade  for  them, 

Nor  wealth  nor  honors  shall  they  share. 

In  vain  to  me  rtal  eyes  concealed 

The  paths  of  righteousness  and  crime 

To  Heaven's  all-seeing  eye  revealed, 
Man  shall  discern  them,  too,  in  time 


86  BLEST  IS   THE   MORTAL  •WHOSE   DELIGHT. 

The  blessing  of  the  Lord  shall  fall 
Upon  the  dwelling  of  the  just ; 

While,  by  the  doom  of  sinners,  all 
Their  hopes  shall  crumble  into  dust. 


WHY  SHOULD   I  PEAK   IN   EVIL  DAYS.  87 


WHY  SHOULD  I  FEAR  IN  EVIL  DATS. 

WHY  should  I  fear  in  evil  days, 

With  snares  encompassed  all  around  1 
What  trust  can  transient  treasures  raise 

For  them  in  riches  who  abound  ? 
His  brother  who  from  death  can  save  ? 

What  wealth  can  ransom  him  from  God  ? 
What  mine  of  gold  defraud  the  grave  1 

What  hoards  but  vanish  at  his  nod  ? 

To  live  forever  is  their  dream ; 

Their  houses  by  their  name  they  call ; 
While,  borne  by  time's  relentless  stream, 

Around  them  wise  and  foolish  fall ; 
Their  riches  others  must  divide ; 

They  plant,  but  others  reap  the  fruit ;' 
In  honor  man  cannot  abide, 

To  death  devoted,  like  the  brute. 

This  is  their  folly,  this  their  way ; 

And  yet  in  this  their  sons  delight ; 
Like  sheep,  of  death  the  destined  prey, 

The  future  scorn  of  the  upright ; 


WHY   SHOULD  I  FEAR  IN  EVIL  DATS. 

The  grave  their  beauty  shall  consume, 
Their  dwellings  never  see  them  more ; 

But  God  shall  raise  me  from  the  tomb, 
And  life  for  endless  time  restore. 


What  though  thy  foe  in  wealth  increase, 

And  fame  and  glory  crown  his  head  ? 
Fear  not,  for  all  at  death  shall  cease, 

Nor  fame,  nor  glory,  crown  the  dead : 
While  prospering  all  around  thee  smiled, 

Yet  to  the  grave  shall  thou  descend ; 
The  senseless  pride  of  fortune's  child 

Shall  share  the  brute  creation's  end. 


COME,   LET  US   SING  UNTO   THE   LORD.  89 

COME,  LET  US  SING  UNTO  THE  LORD. 

COME,  let  us  sing  unto  the  Lord, 

The  Bock  of  our  salvation  sing, 
With  joyful  noise  his  praise  record, 

And  thanks  before  his  presence  bring: 
Great  is  Jehovah,  great  our  God, 

Exalted  above  all  his  throne ; 
The  depths  of  earth  obey  his  nod ; 

The  mountain  tops  are  all  his  own. 

He  made  the  sea ;  the  land  he  made ;  t 

And  both  his  matchless  power  reveal : 
O,  be  the  Lord  our  God  obeyed ; 

O,  come,  before  him  let  us  kneel : 
He  is  our  Maker — we  his  flock, 

His  people,  by  his  pastures  fed : 
Let  not  your  hearts  be  turned  to  rock ; 

O,  hear  his  warning  voice  with  dread. 
8* 


00     SIN»  TO  THE  LORD  A  SONG  OF  PRAISB. 

SINQ  TO  THE  LORD  A  SONG  OF  PRAISE 

SIHO  to  the  Lord  a  song  of  praise ; 

Assemble,  ye  who  love  his  name ; 
Let  congregated  millions  raise 

Triumphant  glory's  loud  acclaim : 
From  earth's  remotest  regions  come ; 

Come,  greet  your  Maker,  and  your  King ; 
With  harp,  with  timbrel,  and  with  drum, 

His  praise  let  hill  and  valley  sing. 

Your  praise  the  Lord  will  not  disdain ; 

The  humble  soul  is  his  delight ; 
Saints,  on  yqur  couches  swell  the  strain, 

Break  the  dull  stillness  of  the  night ; 
Rejoice  in  glory ;  bid  the  storm, 

Bid  thunder's  voice  his  praise  expand ; 
And,  while  your  lips  the  chorus  form, 

Grasp  for  the  fight  his  vengeful  brand. 

Go  forth  in  arms ;  Jehovah  reigns ; 

Their  graves  let  foul  oppressors  find ; 
Bind  all  their  sceptred  kings  in  chains ; 

Their  peers  with  iron  fetters  bind. 


SING   TO   THE   LORD  A   SONG   OF   PRAISE. 

Then  to  the  Lord  shall  praise  ascend ; 

.Then  all  mankind,  with  one  accord, 
And  freedom's  voice,  till  time  shall  end, 

In  pealing  anthems,  praise  the  Lord. 


91 


LORD   OF    ALL    WORLDS. 


LORD  OF  ALL  WORLDS. 

LORD  of  all  worlds,  let  thanks  and  praise 

To  thee  forever  fill  my  soul ; 
With  blessings  thou  hast  crowned  my  days,— • 

My  heart,  my  head,  my  hand  control : 
O,  let  no  vain  presumptions  rise, 

No  impious  murmur  in  my  heart, 
To  crave  the  boon  thy  will  denies, 

Or  shrink  from  ill  thy  hands  impart. 

Thy  child  am  I,  and  not  an  hour, 

Revolving  in  the  orbs  above, 
But  brings  some  token  of  thy  power, 

But  brings  some  token  of  thy  love ; 
And  shall  this  bosom  dare  repine, 

In  darkness  dare  deny  the  dawn, 
Or  spurn  the  treasures  of  the  mine, 

Because  one  diamond  is  withdrawn  f 

The  fool  denies,  the  fool  alone, 

Thy  being,  Lord,  and  boundless  might  t- 
Denies  the  firmament,  thy  throne, 

Denies  the  sun's  meridian  light; 


LORD   OF   ALL   WORLDS. 


93 


Denies  the  fashion  of  his  frame, 

The  voice  he  hears,  the  breath  he  draws ; 
O  idiot  atheist !  to  proclaim 

Effects  unnumbered  without  cause  ! 

Matter  and  taind,  mysterious  one, 

Are  man's  for  threescore  years  and  ten ; 
Where,  ere  the  thread  of  life  was  spun  ? 

Where,  when  reduced  to  dust  again  T 
All-seeing  God,  the  doubt  suppress ; 

The  doubt  thou  only  canst  relieve  ; 
My  soul  thy  Saviour-Son  shall  bless, 

Fly  to  thy  gospel,  and  believe. 


94  JUSTICE. 


• 


3 


USTICE, 


L 

CHILD  of  the  dust!  to  yonder  skiw 

Thy  vision  canst  thou  turn  ? 
And  trace  with  perishable  eyes, 

The  seats  where  seraphs  burn  ? 
There,  by  the  throne  of  God  on  high, 
An  angel  form  canst  thou  descry, 

Ineffably  sublime  ? 
Or  is  the  effulgence  of  the  Light, 
Intense,  insufferably  bright, 

For  beings  born  of  Tune  1 

II. 

That  angel  form,  in  light  enshrined, 

Beside  the  living  throne, 
Is  Justice,  still  to  heaven  confined— 

For  God  is  just  alone. 
This  Angel,  of  celestial  birth, 
Her  faint  resemblance  here  on  earth 


JUSTICE.  95 

Has  sent,  mankind  to  guide— 
let,  though  obscured  her  brightest  beams, 
Still  with  too  vivid  ray  she  gleams 

For  Mortals  to  abide. 

m. 

When  the  first  father  of  our  race 

Against  his  God  rebelled, 
Was  banished  from  his  Maker's  face, 

From  Paradise  expelled ; 
For  guilt  unbounded  to  atone, 
What  bound  could  punishment  have  known, 

Had  Justice  dealt  the  blow  ? 
Sure,  to  infernal  regions  hurled, 
His  doom  had  been  a  flaming  world 

Of  never  ending  woe ! 

IV. 
But  Mercy,  from  the  throne  of  God, 

Extended  forth  her  hand ; 
Withheld  th'  exterminating  rod, 

And  quenched  the  flaming  brand : 
His  blood  the  blest  Redeemer  gave, 
Th'  apostate  victim's  blood  to  save, 

And  fill  redemption's  plan : 
Angels  proclaimed  in  choral  songs, 
"Justice  to  God  alone  belongs, 

And  Mercy  pardons  man." 


JUSTICE. 

- 

When,  issuing  from  the  savage  wild, 

Man  forms  the  social  tie, 
Justice  severe,  and  Mercy  mild, 

To  bind  the  compact  vie ; 
Of  each  his  own,  the  parting  hedge 
Stern  Justice  takes  the  solemn  pledge ; 

The  sacred  vow  enjoins. 
While  Mercy,  with  benignant  face, 
Bids  man  his  fellow-man  embrace, 

And  heart  with  heart  entwines. 

VI. 

To  both  united  is  the  trust 

Of  human  laws  consigned ; 
One  teaches  mortals  to  be  just; 

The  other,  to  be  kind ; 
Yet  shall  not  Justice  always  wear 
The  garb  of  punishment,  or  bear 

The  avenging  sword  to  smite : 
Nor  Mercy's  ever  gladdening  eye 
Permit  the  ruffian  to  defy 

Th'  unerring  rule  of  right. 
- 

vn. 

To  Justice,  dearer  far  the  part 
To  tune  the  plausive  voice; 

Of  Virtue  to  delight  the  heart, 
And  bid  the  good  rejoice. 


JUSTICE.  07 

To  yield  the  meed  of  grateful  praise-  - 
The  deathless  monument  to  raise, 

To  honor  Virtue  dead ; 
Or  wreathe  the  chaplet  of  renown, 
The  laurel  or  the  mural  crown, 

For  living  Virtue's  head. 

VIII. 
Here,  to  defend  his  native  land, 

His  sword  the  patriot  draws ; 
Here  the  mock  hero  lifts  his  hand 

To  aid  a  tyrant's  cause. 
When,  meeting  on  the  field  of  blood 
They  pour  the  sanguinary  flood, 

Whose  triumph  waves  unfurled  7 
Alas !  let  Cheronea  tell ; 
Or  plains  where  godlike  Brutus  fell, 

Or  Csesar  won  the  world ! 

IX. 

In  arms,  when  hostile  nations  riso 

And  blood  the  strife  decides, 
'Tis  brutal  force  awards  the  prize, 

Her  head  while  Justice  hides. 
But  short  is  force's  triumph  base: 
Justice  unveils  her  awful  face, 

And  hurls  him  from  the  steep ; 
Strips  from  his  brow  the  wreath  of  fame, 


And  after  ages  load  his  name 
With  curses  loud  and  deep. 

X. 

Behold  the  lettered  sage  devote 

The  labors  of  his  miud, 
His  country's  welfare  to  promote, 

And  benefit  mankind. 
Lo !    from  the  blackest  caves  of  hell, 
A  phalanx  fierce  of  monsters  fell, 

Combine  their  fearful  bands — 
His  fame  asperse,  his  toils  assail ; 
Till  Justice  holds  aloft  her  scale 

And  shields  him  from  their  hands. 

XL 

Of  excellence,  in  every  clime, 

'Tis  thus  the  lot  is  cast; 
Passion  usurps  the  present  time, 

But  Justice  rules  the  past: 
Envy,  and  selfishness,  and  pride, 
The  passing  hours  of  man  divide 

With  unresisted  sway ; 
But  Justice  comes,  with  noiseless  tread, 
O'ertakes  the  filmy  spider's  thread 

And  sweeps  the  net  away. 

XII. 

Eternal  Spirit !  Lord  supreme 
Of  blessing  and  of  woe  I 


JUSTICE. 

Of  Justice,  ever  living  stream ! 

Whose  mercies  ceaseless  flow- 
Make  me,  while  earth  shall  be  my  span, 
Just  to  my  fellow-mortal,  man, 

Whate'er  my  lot  may  be. 
And  when  this  transient  scene  is  o'er, 
Pure  let  my  deathless  spirit  soar, 

And  Mercy  find  from  thee. 


99 


100  TO   SALLY. 


TO  SALLY. 


•Integer  vita,  scelerisque  purus 
Non  eget  Mauris  jaculis,  neque  area." 


THE  man  in  righteousness  array 'd, 

A  pure  and  blameless  liver, 
Needs  not  the  keen  Toledo  blade, 

Nor  venom-freighted  quiver. 
What  though  he  wind  his  toilsome  way 

O'er  regions  wild  and  weary- 
Through  Zara's  burning  desert  stray  ; 

Or  Asia's  jungles  dreary : 

What  though  he  plough  the  billowy  deep 

By  lunar  light,  or  solar, 
Meet  the  resistless  Simoon's  sweep, 

Or  iceberg  circumpolar. 
In  bog  or  quagmire  deep  and  dank, 

His  foot  shall  never  settle ; 
He  mounts  the  summit  of  Mont  Blanc, 

Or  Popocatapetl. 

On  Chimborazo's  breathless  height, 
He  treads  o'er  burning  lava ; 


TO   SALLY.  101 


Or  snuffs  the  Bohan  Upas  blight, 

The  deathful  plant  of  Java. 
Through  every  peril  he  shall  pass, 

By  Virtue's  shield  protected ; 
And  still  by  Truth's  unerring  glass 

His  path  shall  be  directed. 

Else  wherefore  was  it,  Thursday  last, 
While  strolling  down  the  valley 

Defenceless,  musing  as  I  pass'd 
A  canzonet  to  Sally ; 

A  wolf,  with  mouth  protruding  snout, 
Forth  from  the  thicket  bounded — 

I  clapped  my  hands  and  raised  a  shout- 
He  heard — and  fled — confounded. 

Tangier  nor  Turns  never  bred 

An  animal  more  crabbed  ; 
Nor  Fez,  dry  nurse  of  lions,  fed 

A  monster  half  so  rabid. 
Nor  Ararat  so  fierce  a  beast 

Has  seen,  since  days  of  Noah ; 
Nor  strong,  more  eager  for  a  feast, 

The  fell  constrictor  boa. 

Oh !  place  me  where  the  solar  beam 
Has  scorch'd  all  verdure  vernal ; 

Or  on  the  polar  verge  extreme, 
Block'd  up  with  ice  eternal— 


TO    SALLY. 


Still  shall  my  voice's  tender  lays 
Of  love  remain  unbroken  ; 

And  still  my  charming  SALLT  praise, 
Sweet  smiling  and  sweet  spoken. 


103 


TO  E B 

OH  !  wherefore,  Lady,  was  my  lot 

Cast  from  thy  own  so  far  ? 
Why,  by  kind  Fortune,  live  we  not 

Beneath  one  blessed  star  ? 
For,  had  thy  thread  of  life  and  mine 

But  side  by  side  been  spun, 
My  heart  had  panted  to  entwine 

The  tissue  into  ONE. 

And  why  should  Time  conspire 

To  sever  us  in  twain  ? 
And  wherefore  have  I  run  my  race, 

And  cannot  start  again  ? 
Thy  thread,  how  long !  how  short  is  mine . 

Mine  spent — thine  scarce  begun : 
Alas !  we  never  can  entwine 

The  tissue  into  ONE 

But,  take  my  blessings  on  thy  name — 

The  blessing  of  a  sire ; 
Not  from  a  lover's  furnace  flame— 

'Tis  from  a  holier  fire : 


104 


A  thread  unseen  beside  of  thine 
By  fairy  forms  is  spun — 

And  holy  bands  shall  soon  entwin* 
The  tissue  into  ONK. 


I. 


TO   A   LADY.  105 


TO  A  LADY 

WHO   PRESENTED   HIM   A    PAIR  OF   KNIT   GLOVI8. 

WHO  shall  say  that  public  life 
Is  nothing  but  discordant  strife  1 
And  he  whose  heart  is  tuned  to  love, 
Tender  and  gentle  as  the  dove, 
Must  whet  his  talons,  night  and  day, 
For  conflicts  with  the  birds  of  prey  ? 

This  world  is  fashioned,  Lady  fair, 
Of  Joy  and  Sorrow,  Ease  and  Care ; 
Of  sudden  changes,  small  and  great ; 
Of  upward  and  of  downward  fate : 
And  whoso  bends  his  mood  to  trace 
The  annals  of  man's  fallen  race, 
May  sigh  to  find  that  nature's  plan 
Is  ruthless  war  from  man  to  man. 
But  nature,  cruel  to  be  kind, 
Not  to  war  only  man  consigned ; 
But  gave  him  woman  on  the  spot. 
To  mingle  pleasure  in  his  lot : 
That  if  with  man  war  cannot  cease, 
With  woman  reigns  eternal  peace. 


TO   A   LADY. 

Fair  Lady,  I  have  lived  on  earth 
Nigh  fourscore  summers  from  my  birth ; 
And  half  the  sorrows  I  have  felt 
Have  by  my  brother  man  been  dealt ; 
And  all  the  ills  I  have  endured 
By  man  inflicted,  woman  cured. 
The  glove  from  man  to  man,  thou  know'st, 
Of  fierce  defiance  is  the  boast ; 
And  cast  in  anger  on  the  floor, 
To  mortal  combat  shows  the  door: 
But  gloves  from  woman's  gentle  hand, 
Of  cordial  Friendship  bear  the  wand  ; 
And  in  return  a  single  glove 
Betokens  emblematic  Love. 

Thy  gift,  fair  Ellen,  then  I  take, 
And  cherish  for  the  giver's  sake ; 
And  while  they  shelter  from  the  storm 
My  hands,  the  heart  alike  shall  warm ; 
And  speed  for  thee  to  God  above, 
The  fervid  prayer  of  faithful  love. 


THE  LIP  AND  THE  HEART.          107 


THE  LIP  AND  THE  HEART. 

ONE  day  between  the  Lip  and  the  Heart 

A  wordless  strife  arose, 
Which  was  expertest  in  the  art 

His  purpose  to  disclose. 

The  Lip  called  forth  the  vassal  Tongue, 

And  made  him  vouch — a  lie  ! 
The  slave  his  servile  anthem  sung, 

And  brav'd  the  listening  sky. 

The  Heart  to  speak  in  vain  essay'd, 
Nor  could  his  purpose  reach — 

His  will  nor  voice  nor  tongue  obeyed, 
His  silence  was  his  speech. 

Mark  thou  their  difference,  child  of  earth  ! 

While  each  performs  his  part, 
Not  all  the  lip  can  speak  is  worth 
The  silence  of  the  heart. 


108  WRITTEN   IN   AN   ALBUM. 


WRITTEN  IN  AN  ALBUM. 

IN  days  of  yore,  the  poet's  pen 

From  wing  of  bird  was  plundered ; 
Perhaps  of  goose,  bat,  now  and  then, 

From  Jove's  own  eagle  sundered. 
But  now  metallic  pens  disclose 

Alone  the^poet's  numbers 
In  iron  inspiration  glows, 

Or  with  the  minstrel  slumbers. 

Fair  damsel !  could  my  pen  impart, 

In  prose  or  lofty  rhyme, 
The  pure  emotions  of  my  heart, 

To  speed  the  flight  of  time ; 
What  metal  from  the  womb  of  earth 

Could  worth  intrinsic  bear, 
To  stamp  with  corresponding  worth 

The  blessings  thou  shouldst  share  7 


A  VISION.  109 


A  VISION. 

FATIGUED  with  labor,  and  with  care  opprest, 
At  once  my  mind  and  body  sought  for  rest. 
The  drowsy  god  upon  my  aching  head, 
With  liberal  hand,  his  friendly  poppies  shed, 
When,  lo  !  before  me  wondrous  scenes  appeared, 
Strange  things  I  saw,  and  stranger  things  I  heard ; 
On  purple  pinions  borne,  the  god  of  Love, 
With  rapid  flight,  descended  from  above. 
His  golden  quiver  by  a  ribbon  slung, 
In  graceful  ease  across  his  shoulder  hung ; 
The  fatal  bow,  his  ensign  of  command, 
With  dire  intent  he  wielded  in  his  hand. 
He  saw  me  first,  and  took  a  feathered  dart, 
Prepared  his  bow,  and  levelled  at  my  heart ; 
I  turned  around,  hia  posture  I  espied : 
"  Oh,  spare  me,  Cupid,  cruel  god !"  I  cried, 
"  Behold  around  you  swarms  of  youthful  swains, 
The  blood  of  passion  boiling  in  their  veins ; 
'Tis  theirs  from  love  to  gather  perfect  bliss, 
On  beauty's  lips  to  print  the  burning  kiss. 
'Tis  theirs  to  find  enjoyment  in  a  sigh, 
And  read  their  fortunes  in  a  virgin's  eye. 
JO 


110 


Bat  me,  whom  nature  formed  without  an  art 

To  win  the  soul  or  captivate  the  heart — 

Me,  whom  the  Graces  view  with  stern  disdain, 

As  scarcely  fit  to  join  the  Muses'  train ; 

From  me  what  trophies  couldst  thou  hope  to  raise  ? 

So  poor  a  conquest,  who  would  deign  to  praise  1 

By  Cupid's  hand  should  I  be  doomed  to  bleed, 

Not  even  Cnpid  would  avow  the  deed. 

While  prostrate  millions  bow  before  thy  shrine 

With  willing  hearts,  thou  canst  not  wish  for  mine." 

"  Mistaken  youth  !"  the  wanton  god  replied, 
"To  think  that  Love  will  e'er  submit  to  Pride ; 
Though  willing  thousands  call  upon  my  name, 
.Though  prostrate  millions  celebrate  my  fame, 
If  one  proud  heart  my  empire  could  despise, 
One  heart  defy  the  power  of  beauty's  eyes, 
My  useless  bow  at  once  I  would  destroy, 
Nor  ever  more  one  feathered  dart  employ; 
My  mercy  then  in  vain  you  would  implore, 
Your  peace  of  mind  it  never  could  restore. 
And  yet  some  merit  I  will  grant  thy  plea, 
And  in  thy  favor  soften  the  decree. 
Of  all  the  fair  that  grace  the  verdant  plain, 
Choose  for  thyself  the  object  of  thy  pain. 
Shouldst  thou  prefer  the  beauties  of  the  face, 
Or  in  the  form  admire  peculiar  grace — 
Should  sparkling  eyes  inspire  a  pleasing  flame, 
Or  rosy  cheeks  a  fond  attention  claim— 


Ill 


Whatever  charm  thy  fancy  can  suggest, 
In  some  kind  virgin  thou  mayst  still  be  blest ; 
For  in  the  search  we  possibly  may  find 
Some  who  possess  the  beauties  of  the  mind." 

He  ceased  to  speak,  and  waved  his  potent  wand— 

The  virgin  throng  arose  at  his  command. 

Unnumbered  beauties  rise  before  my  view, 

Bright  as  the  sunbeam  on  the  morning  dev/, 

The  short,  the  tall,  the  fair,  the  brown,  appeared, 

The  prude  that  pouted,  the  coquette  that  leered, 

The  timid  maid  just  blooming  at  fifteen, 

And  the  stale  virgin,  withered,  pale,  and  lean. 

With  all  the  charms  of  beauty  richly  fraught, 

Lucinda  first  my  close  attention  caught. 

A  faultless  person  and  a  lovely  mind, 

I  found,  with  wonder,  were  in  her  combined ; 

Deficient  only  in  a  single  part, 

She  wanted  nothing  but  a  feeling  heart  ! 

Calm  and  unrufBed  as  a  summer  sea, 

From  passion's  gales  Luciuda's  heart  was  free 

A  faithless  lover  she  may  well  defy, 

Recall  her  heart,  nor  breathe  a  single  sigh. 

And  should  a  second  prove  inconstant  too, 

She  changes  on  till  she  can  find  one  true. 

Belinda  next  advances  with  a  stride, 

A  compound  strange  of  vanity  and  pride. 

Around  her  face  no  wanton  Cupids  play, 

Her  tawny  skin  defies  the  god  of  day. 


112  A  VISION. 

Loud  was  her  laugh,  undaunted  was  her  look, 

And  folly  seemed  to  dictate  what  she  spoke. 

la  vain  the  poet's  and  musician's  art 

Combined  to  move  the  passions  of  her  heart ; 

Belinda's  voice  like  grating  hinges  groans, 

And  in  harsh  thunder  roars  a  lover's  moans. 

I  turned  away,  the  fair  Narcissa  smiled, 

Her  winning  softness  all  my  soul  beguiled ; 

My  heart  with  rapture  dwelt  upon  her  charms, 

And  hoped  to  clasp  her  beauties  to  my  arms ; 

But  soon  I  found  those  ardent  hopes  were  vain, 

Narcissa  viewed  my  passion  with  disdain. 

And  can  the  sex  by  nature  formed  for  love, 

Each  soft  impression  from  the  heart  remove  1 

Can  idle  vanity  betray  the  mind 

To  wish,  and  even  strive  to  be  unkind  ? 

Use  cunning  arts  to  raise  the  lover's  sigh, 

Then  view  his  woes  with  a  disdainful  eye  ? 

Yes,  there  are  such — but  when  avenging  time 

Withers  their  charms,  and  strips  them  of  their  prime, 

Their  former  follies  they  in  vain  lament, 

Of  former  cruelties  in  vain  repent ; 

Their  fate  in  one  short  line  may  be  comprised  : 

While  young,  they're  hated,  and  when  old,  despised. 

Vanessa  came,  a  smile  adorned  her  face, 

Her  words  were  sweetness,  and  her  voice  was  grace ; 

No  raging  passions  burn  within  her  breast, 

Not  even  envy  can  disturb  her  rest. 

Her  lovely  mind  a  rival '»  worth  can  own, 


A   VISION. 

Nor  thinks  all  charms  confined  to  her  alone  j 
And  if  the  fair  Vanessa  could  be  taught 
To  store  her  mind  with  larger  funds  of  thought, 
Her  volubility  of  tongue  repress, 
Think  somewhat  more,  and  prattle  somewhat  lest, 
The  palm  of  excellence  she  well  might  claim, 
And  Love  himself  might  tune  the  voice  of  fame. 
But  lo !  Corinna  next  in  rank  appears, 
And  riots  in  the  bloom  of  early  years. 
With  innate  warmth  of  constitution  blest, 
Her  greatest  pleasure  is  to  be  caressed; 
Her  lips  sip  rapture  from  an  amorous  kiss, 
Viewed  as  a  pledge  of  more  endearing  bliafc 
But  frugal  Nature  wisely  did  dispense, 
With  so  much  love,  a  slender  share  of  sense  | 
For  Nature  grants  but  to  a  chosen  few 
To  taste  the  joys  of  mind  and  body  too. 
Gigantic  limbs  in  painful  buckram  cased, 
Assume  the  honors  of  a  slender  waist. 
But  ah !  what  power  of  buckram  can  restrain 
The  wild  effusions  of  a  thoughtless  brain. 
Nerea  next  advances  in  the  throng, 
And  affectation  leads  the  maid  along ; 
With  studied'step  she  steers  amid  the  band. 
And  holds  a  senseless  novel  in  her  hand. 
Fair  is  her  face,  and  elegant  her  form, 
Her  manners  gentle,  and  her  heart  is  warm. 
Why  will  Nerea  spend  her  youthful  day* 
In  wild  romances  and  insipid  plays";     * 
8 


lit 


114 


Where  idle  tales  in  flimsy  language  told, ' 
Exhibit  folly  in  a  pleasing  mould  ? 
Fictitious  evils  enervate  the  breast, 
Deprave  the  morals,  and  corrupt  the  taste. 
Almira  next,  in  dubious  form  is  seen — 
Her  face  is  female,  masculine  her  mien ; 
With  equal  skill,  no  moj^al  can  pretend 
The  varied  faults  of  either  sex  to  blend. 
To  woman's  weakness  add  the  pride  of  man. 
And  wield  alike  the  dagger  and  the  fan. 
In  fairest  forms,  can  evil  passions  dwell  ?    ^ 
The  virgin's  breast  can  envy's  venom  swell  T 
Can  malice  dart  her  rage  from  beauty's  eye, 
Or  give  the  snow-white  cheek  a  crimson  dye 
Where  then  are  all  the  tender  virtues  flown — 
And  why  was  strength  dispensed  to  man  alone  t 
The  lamb  to  vie  with  lions  ne'er  pretend — 
The  timid  dove  with  eagles  ne'er  contend. 
Attempt  not  then,  ye  fair,  to  rule  by  fear,    • 
The  surest  female  weapon  is  a  tear. 
To  beauty,  strangers  destitute  of  grace, 
With  varied  nothing  pictured  in  their  face, 
A  motley  crowd  in  quick  succession  came, 
Distinguished  only  by  a  differing  nan», 
Till,  breaking  forth  in  all  the  pride  of  day, 
;  The  sun  of  beauty  drove  those  clouds  away. 
With  graceful  steps  the  lovely  CLARA  moved, 
IMIB,  I  gazed,  Ilistened,  and  I  LOVED. 
The  fleeting  vision  vanished  from  my  mind, 


115 


"Rut  love  and  Clara  still  remained  behind. 

Ye  faithful  lovers,  whom  the  Muse  inspires, 

Who  feel  the  rapture  of  poetic  fires ; 

Whose  tender  strains  describe  with  matchless  art 

The  soft  emotions  of  a  feeling  heart; 

Come,  and  before  the  lovely  Clara's  shrine, 

The  mingled  tribute  of  Jt»ur  praises  join. 

My  Clara's  charms,  no  vulgar  poets  claim, 

No  servile  bard  that  clips  the  wings  of  fame, 

To  vile  acrostic  tunes,  unmeaning  lays, 

Or  in  a  rebus  centres  all  his  praise. 

The  partial  gods  presiding  at  her  birth 

Gave  Clara  beauty  when  they  gave  her  worth. 

Kind  Nature  formed  of  purest  white  her  skin, 

An  emblem  of  her  innocence  within ; 

And  called  on  cheerful  Health,  her  aid  to  lend, 

The  rose's  colors  on  her  cheeks  to  blend ; 

While  Venus  added,  to  complete  the  fair, 

The  eyes  blue  languish  and  the  golden  hair. 

But  far  superior  charms  exalt  her  mind, 

Adorned  by  nature  and  by  art  refined ; 

Hers  are  the  lasting  beauties  of  the  heart, 

The  charms  which  nature  only  can  impart  f^ 

The  generous  purpose  and  the  soul  sincere, 

Meek  sorrow's  sigh  and  gentle  pity's  tear. 

Ah,  lovely  Clara  !  can  a  heart  like  thine, 

Accept  the  tribute  of  a  muse  like  mine  T 

Should  these  poor  lays  attract  thy  beauteous  eyf , 

Say,  would  they  raise  one  sympathetic  sigh? 


BOOKS   RECENTLY   PUBLISHED    BY   DERBY   A   MILLER. 

Voice   to  the   You      :  Or  Lectures  for  the  Times. 
By  WILLIAM  W.  PATTON.     One  12mo.  voL 

The  lectures  contained  in  this  volume  are  not  made  up  of  merely  common  place 
emarks.  They  are  elevated  in  sentiment,  chasie  in  style,  and  impressive  in  manner. 
No  person  who  reads  the  volume  can  Tail  to  profit  by  it,  or  to  admire  the  evangelicai 
views  and  elegant  language  of  the  author.  The  work  deservea  to  be  a  favorite  with 
young  men. — Northern  Christian  Advocate. 

It  is  a  genial,  earnest,  manly  book.  The  author  is  himself  a  remarkable  exampla 
of  independent  thinking  and  philanthropic  reeling.  The  bugle  note  whicb  he  sounds 
to  young  men  is  no  uncertain  sound.  He  goes  with  his  whole  soul  lor  bettering  the 
world,  where  lie  think?  it  n?.d,  arid  few  of  the  young  men  who  heard  his  lectures  or 
shall  read  his  book,  will  not  be  stronsly  inclined  to  go  with  him.  We  cordially  adviss 
•ill  young  men  who  are  anxious  to  do'and  lie  something  in  this  universe,  to  cultivate 
in  acquaintance  with  Mr.  1'atton  or  his  book,  —notion  Chronolype. 

There  are  seven  lectures  in  this  volume  devoted  to  subjects  rather  unusual  in  a 
.work  of  this  kind,  and  having  the  impress  of  earnest  feeling  and  reflection.  That 
same  of  the  points  are  overstated  does  not  detract  from  the  exceeding  value  and  im- 
portance of  most  of  the  views  presented— all  the  more  important  because  so  infre- 
quently attended  to  in  the  pulpit.,  or  in  works  designed  for  the  young.  The  book  ;• 
written  in  a  perspicuous  and  forcible  style,  and  both  from  its  matter  and  spirit  10 
3lkely  to  become  popular  and  useful. — New  York  Evangelist. 

.-)  This  is  an  excellent  book— excellent  in  its  purpose,  in  its  execution,  and  in  its 
Adaptation  to  the  present  day.  In  some  respects  this  book  dinars  from  all  kindred 
'works  that  we  have  seen.  As  a  writer  Mr.  Patton  is  lucid,  earnest,  and  direct,  never 

»bscure  and  seldom  other  than  forcible.  Regarded  merely  as  a  literary  performance 
tvo  must,  pronounce  the:-e  lectures  highly  creditable.  Their  timely  and  important 
*  noral  inculcations  should  commend  them  more  especially  to  the  friends  of  religion 

jid  entitle  them  to  a  place  in  every  Christian  household. — Charter  Oak. 

\:.  These  are  able  and  earnest  lectures  to  young  men,  delivered  to  the  author's  con- 
{legation  in  Hartford,  and  contain  many  valuable  considerations  and  glowing  appeals 
'.'•7>  rouse  the  youth  to  diligence,  courage,  and  faith  in  the  struggle  of  hie. — New  York 
Webserver. 

,t'  The  counsels,  warnings,  and  encouragements,  to  the  young,  contained  in  this  vol- 
•MM,  are,  as  designed,  adapted  to  the  tunes.     It  is  interesting  in  its  style  as  well  as 
latter,  and  canuot  fail  to  profit  that  class  to  whom  it  is  addressed. — The  (Boston) 
'  ptritan. 

i\  The  author  of  these  lectures  is  himself  a  young  man.  He  has  addressed  those  of 
^•jisown  age,  not  with  the  stern  reproof  or  grave  counsel  of  a  father,  but  with  the  af- 
?Hctionate~entreaty.  kind,  yet  faithful  warning  of  a  brothei.  The  subjects  of  the  lec- 
ires  are  judiciously  selected  and  cannot  fail  of  doing  good  to  those  who  are  soon  to 
^-jiar  the  burdens  and  responsibilities  of  society. —Huston  Recorder. 

jvi>  A  volume  of  lectures,  seven  in  numbei-j  on  subjects  of  vast  importance,  and  writ- 
m  with  much  force.    The  book  will  prolit  those  who  read  it. — New  York  Commtr- 
'  3al  Advertiser. 

{The  lectures  were  delivered  on  Sabbath  evenings  to  densely  crowded  audiencca, 

id  were  spoken  of  in  terms  of  high  praise  at  the  time.     At  the  request  of  many  who 

•sard  them  they  are  now  published.     The  lectures  are  valuable,  containing  a  vast 

jiount  of  good  advice  and  information  for  that  class  of  persons  for  whom  they  were 

tiginally  designed,  and  in  a  time  like  the  present,  when  pernicious  literature  ap- 

.  Tfcars  to  be  the  order  of  the  day,  they  are  mill  more  acceptable.— (Hartford)  Cftrta- 

vpn  Secretary. 

'.  jwe  can  positively  say  that  the  object  of  the  work  is  most  praiseworthy,  the  sub 
cts  treated  of  are  important,  the  counsels  it  contains  are  weighty,  and  are  enforced 
a  happy  style  with  a  spirit  well  calculated  to  gain  the  attention  of  those  who  ara 
Jdreesed. — Hartford  (CV.)  Courant. 

In  design  and  execution  it  is  worthy  to  so  eide  by  side  with  the  late  popular  and 
idely  circulated  work  known  aa  Beaclter's  Lectures  to  Young  Men.  The  fifth  Ice- 
re  is  well  suited  to  our  columns  and  we  hope  to  give  it  a  place  ere  long. — AT.  Y. 
Jvoeaie  and  i'tumly  Guardian. 


BOOKS   RECENTLY  PUBLISHED   BY  DERBT  &  MILLER. 

The  Odd  Fellows'  Amulet :  or  the  principles  of  Odd 
Fellowship  detmed  ;  the  objections  to  the  order  answered  ; 
and  its  advantages  maintained ;  with  an  address  to  the  pub- 
lic, the  ladies,  and  the  order.  By  Rev.  D.  W.  BRISTOL,  Pas- 
tor of  the  M.  E.  Church,  and  P.  G.  of  Osco  Lodge,  No.  304, . 
at  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Bristol,  the  author  of  the  above  work,  is  a  popular  clergyman  of  tlje 
Methodist  church.  He  appears  to  have  miuen  the  work  not  merely  for  Odd  Fellows, 
but  to  disabuse  the  public  mind,  if  possible,  of  prejudices  formed  against  the  Order, 
A  spirit  and  design  of  apparent  sincerity  appear*  to  pervade  the  entire  work,  and  tho 
writer  discusses  his  themes  and  meets  the  objections  urged  against  Odd  Fellows,  with 
a  great  deal  of  candor  and  respect.  No  person,  we  think,  can  read  it,  whatever  may 
have  been  his  prejudices  hitherto,  wiihout  having  those  prejudices  at  least,  conside- 
rably softened,  if  not  wholly  taken  away.  The  style  of  the  writer  ie  captivating, 
while  the  arrangement  and  classification  of  his  subjects  adds  interest  to  the  volume. 
We  have  no  hesitancy  in  recommending  the  Amulet  as  a  book  that  may  be  read  by 
the  public  —Genesee  Evangelist. 

We  have  wiled  away  several  houra  pleasantly  and  profitably  in  its  perusal,  and  can 
recommend  it  as  a  work  deserving  of  a  large  circulation.  The  principles  of  the  Or- 
der ar«  set  forth  by  its  auihor,  the  Rev.  D.  VV.  Bristol,  a  distinguished  Methodist 
clergyman,  in  a  masterly  manner,  objections  instituted  by  many  to  the  Order,  are  . 
fairly  tested,  and  answered  in  a  mild  and  satisfactory  way.  It  is  a  cheap  and  useful 
work,  and  we  cheerfully  recommend  it  to  public  favor.— Mirror  of  the  Times. 

Able  and  exceedingly  interesting  articles,  that  we  would  most  cordially  commend 
to  the  attomion  of  every  reader,  while  we  are  gratified  at  being  able  to  bring  there 
under  the  notice  of  members  of  the  great  Order.     The  work  contains  also  Addresses 
by  Rev.  L>   W.  Bristol,  and  is  embellished  with  several  fine  Steel  Engravings.    Fullj| 
and  correctly  defining  the  principles  of  O.  F.,  it  should  fill  a  niche  in  the  library  o. 
every  Odd  Fellow,  where  it  will  furnish  a  mine  of  valuable  matter  whence  he  cat  'l 
draw  at  all  times  for  the  facts  illustrative  of  the  great  principles  of  the  noble  institu- 
tioaof  Odd  Fellowship.— Gulden  Rule. 

It  is  an  excellent  work,  and  worthy  of  the  patronage  of  the  Order.  The  objections 
often  urged  against  our  institution,  are  moat  thoroughly  examined,  and  ably  answer- 
ed. The  book  is  got  up  in  good  style,  and  is  offered  at  a  low  price. — The  Ark. 

We  should  think  that  every  lover  of  the  Order  which  this  book  upholds  would  I 
adorn  his  library  with  it ;  an-*  every  person  that  is  opposed  to  it  should  also  have 
one  so  that  they  could  see  their  objections  answered.    We  would  say  to  *»ery  lovei^; 
of  the  poor  and  afflicted,  buy  one  and  peruse  it  for  yourselves  and  see  wb«t  the  Odi ',( 
Wellows  do  for  them.    Us  motto  is  '•  Do  unto  others  as  ye  would  have  others  do  unu 
you."—  The  B:e. 

This  is  a  clear,  forcible,  and  well  written  exposition  of  the  subjects  above  nam«d ; 
and  a  book  that  every  Odd  Fellow  in  the  country  should  be  in  possession  of.  TIM 
work  is  well  got  up,  and  embellished  with  several  fine  engravings  appropriate  to  th« 
subject  of  which  it  treats.  It  is  sold  at  the  low  price  of  one  dollar,  and  can  be  .-nailed 
to  any  part  of  the  United  States.— Banner  of  tke  Union. 


119 


For  thee,  my  heart  with  vivid  ardor  glows, 
For  thee,  my  blood  with  rapid  impulse  flows. 
By  day  thy  beauties  are  my  darling  theme, 
By  night  thy  image  swee.tens  many  a  dream. 
On  thee,  thy  ardent  lover's  fate  depends, 
From  thee,  the  evil  or  the  boon  descends ; 
Thy  choice  alone  can  make  my  anxious  breast, 
Supremely  wretched  or  supremely  blest ! 


BOOKS   RECENTLY   PUBLISHED    BT   DERBY   *   MILLSK. 

The  Life  of  General  Lafayette.  By  P.  C.  HEA»- 
LEY,  autlior  of  the  Life  of  Josephine.  Auburn:  Derby  & 
Miller. 

A  v»ry  useful  and  popular  book  Mr.  Headley  will  find  that  he  has  here  sent  forth. 
Though  raiher  ton  eulogistic,  and  written  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  patriotism,  ii  narrates 
in  a  clear,  sustained,  and  energetic  history,  ihe  deeds  of  a  remarkable  man  placet!  in 
•  remarkable  position.  Connected  as  he.  was  wi.h  some  of  th«  most  stirring  inci- 
dents of  our  revolutionary  era,  and  of  two  French  experiments  at  imitation,  his  life*" 
introduces  H  great  number  of  historic  passages  of  extraordinary  interest,  winch  the 
graphir  pen  ol  Mr  Ileadley  presents  in  a  highly  dramatic  and  spirited  lorm  It  will 
be  read,  and  read  with  interest,  by  all  who  take  it  up.  The  young,  especially  wilt 
find  it  not  only  an  engaging,  but  a  very  suggestive  and  useful  work,  coloring  imp»i 
tant  histot  cal  farts  with  good  moral  and  philanthropic  sentiment.  "It  IB  neatly  pimteC 
and  does  lionor  to  the  thriving  inland  city  it  hails  from.— xVeir  \'ork  Evangelist. 

Mr.  Ileadley  his  sketched  in  an  easy  and  graceful  style  the  life  of  one  whom  A  mac 
leans  must  everdelight  to  honor.  The  author  has  evidenily  formed  a  just  conception 
ol  biography,  and  has  a  voided  the  extremes  of  barren  detail,  ami  of  elaborate,  fulsotni 
eulogy.  There  is  hardly  an  attempt  at  mere  fine  wining,  but  a  very  successlul  por 
trauure  of  the  magnanimous  General.— Neio  York  Independent. 

"The  man  of  two  worlds,"  alike  in  his  character,  the  unselfish  incidents  of  his  life 
Kid  Ins  patriotic  associates  in  the  great  event.-!  of  his  history,  presented  to  Mr.  Ileadley  a 
grand  theatre  on  which  to  develop  his  descriptive  powers  —  and  his  graphic  pen  has 
not  failed  to  hold  up  before  the  mental  eye  of  his  readers  a  full  portrait  of  the  remark- 
able man  and  his  patriotic,  self-sacrificing  de.eds.  Few  characters  stand  on  the  his- 
toric page  so  illustriously  attired,  from  youth  to  old  ASK,  in  ihe  moral  sublime,  as  ih« 
subject  of  this  memoir.  But  the  priceless  beauty  of  the  work  before  us.  is  the  high 
estimate  our  author  puts  upon  morality  and  religion,  and  the  great  lesson  he  thus 
instills  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  his" readers.  'The  printing  and  binding  are  exe- 
cuted in  a  neat  and  workmanlike  manner. —  Christian  Advocate. 

The  name  of  Lafayette  is  so  intimately  linked  with  the  history  of  our  Revolution, 
and  so  closely  associated  wnh  that  of  Washington,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  wonder  that 
we  have  not  long  since  had  a  memoir  of  his  isle  that  would  do  justice  to  his  career 
as  a  soldier  and  civilian,  and  give  us  the  means  of  forming  an  intelligent;  as  well  as 
an  admiring  estimate  of  the  true  nobleness  ol  his  character..  We  have,  indeed,  had 
biographies  of  the  man,  or  compilations  called  such  ;  but  prepared  with  little  refer- 
ence to  chronological  order,  and  doing  but  scan1,  justice  to  that  portion  of  his  history 
not  Immediately  connected  with  our  struggle  fur  political  independence.  Mr.  Ilead- 
ley ba«  therefore  supplied,  in  this  volume,  a  desideratum  which  many  have  felt,  and 
given  the  youth  of  our  country  the  means  of  studying  one  of  the  purest  models  of 
chivalry  that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Lafayette  was  no  ordinary  man  His  char- 
acter was  singularly  elevated,  unselfish,  and  consistent,  anil  no  truer  friend  ol  liberty 
ever  periled  fortune  and  life  in  its  behalf.  It  was  uoi  a  mere  romantic  impulse  that 
induced  him  to  leave  the  honors  and  delights  of  his  native  land,  to  share  the  Imrd- 
•hips  and  the  perils  of  an  infant  nation  battling  against  fearful  odds  for  the  boon  of 
liberty:  but  a  true  devotion  to  ihe  right,  a  manly  sympathy  with  the  oppressed,  and 
a  no  less  rnaulv  hatred  of  tyranny  in  all  its  forms.  The  (acts  of  his  history,  as  de- 
lailed  by  Mr.  Ileadley.  show  this.  We  are  glad  to  have  our  mind  refreshed  wiih 
these  details,  and  confess  thai  our  admiration  of  Lafayette  has  deepened  with  the 
perusal  ol  these  pages.  It  is.  therefore,  with  no  empty  form  of  words,  but  with  aa 
taniesmess  burn  of  ibis  admiration,  that  we  commend  Mr.  Headiey's  work  to  lha 
American,  public,  as  the  best  biography  of  its  illustrious  subject  that  we  hare  yel 
,ad.  and  as  worthy  of  a  place  in  the  library  of  every  American  citizen. 

One  word  as  to  the  general  style  of  the  publications  of  Derby  ic.  Miller,  whose  en- 
terprise is  fast  gaining  lor  them  a  conspicuous  position  among  the  book  publisher* 
Cf  our  land,  lii  neatness  of  typography,  .ptality  of  paper,  and  beauty  of  lindlng. 
their  works  will  compare  favorably  with  tluwe  of  eastern  publishers  generally,  and 
we  notice  a  steady  improvement  in  these  particular*,  as  the  circle  of  iheir  btulncM 
indent  and  their  issues  multiply.  They  deserve  success,  an*  wo  belicr*  Uiat  Umr 
«B«rgy  and  »uierpriz«  will  commaaU  H.— Standard. 


BOOKS   RECENTLY  PUBLISHED   BY   BKBBY   &   MILLER. 

The  Lives  of  Mary  and  Martha,  mother  and 
Wife  of  Washington :  by  Margaret  C.  Conklin^ 
with  a  steel  portrait,  18mo,  scarlet  cloth. 

Miss  CONKLING,  who  is  a  daughter  el'  Judge  Conkling  of  Auburn,  is  favorably 
known  as  the  author  of  Harper's  translation  of  "Florian'e  History  of  the  Moor* 
af  Spain."  She  also  wrote  "  Isabel,  or  the  Trials  of  the  Heart."  In  the  preparation 
of  the  pretty  little  volume  she  has  done  a  praiseworthy  deed,  and  we  hope  she  will 
receive  the  reward  she  merits.  She  has  taught  us  in  the  work 

"  how  divine  a  thing 
A  woman  may  be  made." 

The  mother  and  wife  of  Washington  were,  in  many  respects,  model  women,  and 
the  daughters  of  America  will  do  weil  to  study  their  character  —  which  is  nnely 
drawn  on  these  pages. —  Literary  Messenger. 

This  beautifully  printed  and  elegantly  bound  little  work,  reflecting  the  highest 
credit  upon  the  skill  and  task  of  the  publishers,  contains  biographical  sketches  of 
Mary,  the  mother,  and  Martha,  ihe  wile  of  the  Father  of  his  country.  It  is  a  most 
Taluable  contribution  to  the  history  of  the  American  people,  embracing  not  only  the 
great  public  events  of  the  century  during  which  the  subjects  lived,  but  those  pictures 
of  home  life,  and  that  exhibition  of  social  manners  and  customs,  which  constitute 
the  most  important  part  of  life,  but  which,  from  the  fact  of  their  apparent  triviality 
and  intangibility,  the  historian  generally  passes  over.  The  authoress  evidently 
sympathises  earnestly  with  her  subject,  and  feels  that  in  the  exhibition  of  those 
womanly  virtues  which  characterized  the  heroines  of  her  narrative,  she  makes  the 
most  eloquent  plea  in  favor  of  the  dignity  of  her  sex.  It  is  dedicated  to  Mrs.  Wu. 
H.  SEWARD,  and  contains  a  finely  executed  engraving  of  the  wife  of  Washington. 
We  cordially  commend  it  to  the  public,  and  most  especially  our  lady  readers.— 
Syracuse  Journal. 

This  acceptable  and  well  written  volume  goes  forth  upon  a  happy  mission. 

"  To  teach  us  how  divine  a  thing 

A  woman  may  be  made," 

Dy  unfolding  those  charms  of  character  which  belong  to  the  mother  and  wife  of  the 
hero  of  the  Land  of  tin.  Free  ;  and  in  the  companionship  of  which,  while  they  illus- 
trated the  watchful  tenderness  of  a  mother,  and  the  confiding  altections  of  a  wife, 
is  shown  those  influences  which  made  up  the  moral  sentiments  of  a  man,  whose 
moral  grandeur  will  be  felt  in  all  that  is  future  in  government  or  divine  in 
philosophy  ;  and  one  whose  name  is  adored  by  all  nations,  aa  the  leader  of  man  iu 
in  the  progress  of  government,  to  that  perfection  of  human  rights  where  all  enjoy 
liberty  and  equality.  To  say  that  Miss  Conkling  has  fulfilled  the  task  she  says  a 
"too  partial  friendship  has  assigned  her"  faultlessly,  would  perhaps  be  "too 
unmeasured  praise,  for  perfection  is  seldom  attained;  but  it  will  not  be  denied  but 
that  her  biographies  are  traced  in  the  chaste  elegances  that  belong  to  the  finished 
periods  of  a  refined  style,  which  fascinates  the  reader  with  what  she  has  thus  contri- 
buted to  our  national  literature. 

The  design  of  the  volume  is,  to  picture  a  mother  fitting  the  "  Father  of  his 
Country  "  in  a  light  full  of  the  inexhaustible  nobleness  of  woman's  nature,  and- yet 
as  possessing  that  subdued  and  quiet  simplicity,  where  Truth  becomes  the  Hope  o& 
Which  Faith  looks  at  the  future  with  a  smile.  The  mother  of  Washington  waa 
tried  in  a  school  of  practice  where  frugal  habits  and  active  industry  were  combined 
with  the  proverbial  excellences  of  those  Virginia  matrons,  who  were  worthy  mothers 
of  such  men  as  Washington,  Jetlerson.  Marshall,  and  Henry.  Miss  C  has  pictured 
with  fidelity  and  elegance,  her  views  of  this  remarkable  woman  ;  not  less  beauti- 
fully has  she  sketched  the  character  of  Martha,  the  wile  ;  following  her  from  her 
bri'liant  manners  as  the  Virginia  belle,  through  the  various  phases  of  her  life,  she 
gives  a  rapid  but  comprehensive  view  of  those  characteristics  which  make  up  the 
quiet  refinement  of  manners  native  to  her,  and  which  ever  gave  her  the  reputation 
•f  an  accomplished  wife  and  lady.  And  with  peculiar  delicacy  Miss  Conkiing  has 
portrayed  the  thousand  virtues  with  which  she  embellished  a  home  ;  her  amiabla 
imposition  and  winning  manners  made  the  happiest  to  the  purest  and  best  of  all 
men  fame  baa  chosen  for  its  noblest  achievmeats. —  Syracuse  Star. 


WORKS   PUBLISHED    BY   DERBY    <b   MILLER. 

THE  LIFE  OF  LOUIS  KOSSUTH, 

-GOVERNOR  OP  HUNGARY;  INCLUDING  NOTICES  OP  THE  MEN  AHD 
SCENES  OP  THE  HUNGARIAN  REVOLUTION:  TO  WHICH  is  ADDED  AM 
APPENDIX,  CONTAINING  HIS  PRINCIPAL  SPEECHES,  &c.  WITH  AH 
INTRODUCTION  BY  HORACE  GREELBY.  BY  P.  C.  HEADUIY.  Auburn 
DERBY  &  MILLER. 


"  We  have  read  pretty  nearly  everything  accessible  which  has  bee» 
published  either  in  England  or  this  country,  in  reference  to  Kossnth 
and  Hungarian  affairs,  and  we  are  satisfied  that  this  is  the  clearest, 
best  arranged,  and  most  reliable  single  volume  yet  before  the  public 
on  these  absorbing  subjects." — Boston  Paper. 


"  This  is  a  work  that  every  lover  of  freedom  should  be 
of." —  Waverley  Luminary. 

"  Mr.  Headley  has  glowingly  depicted  the  causes  which  brought 
about  the  Hungarian  war  of  Independence,  painted  in  his  own  gor- 
geous style  the  battle-fields  of  that  sanguinary  strife,  and  portrayed  in 
the  most  vivid  colors  the  events  which  brought  about  its  " 
result." — Hampshire  Express. 


"  As  a  historical  work  this  volume  is  valuable.  The  Hungarian 
Revolution — its  causes — its  progress — its  termination — all  are  explain* 
ed  in  detail,  and  with  a  vividness  of  description  which  brings  the  in- 
cidents in  almost  life-view  before  the  reader." — Troy  Post. 

"  It  is  from  the  pen  of  P.  C.  Headley,  well  known  by  his  popular 
historical  and  biographical  writings,  and  is  given  in  a  style  of  glowing 
earnestness,  eloquence  and  truthfulness,  which  must  commend  it  to 
the  taste  and  judgment  of  the  public." — Boston  Transcript. 


"  Its  worth  and  popularity  are  sufficiently  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
about  fifteen  thousand  copies  have  already  been  disposed  of.  It  is 
embellished  by  a  most  spirited  likeness  of  the  great  Magyar."—  CkurtA 
Ambassador. 

"  This  American  biography  of  the  Hungarian  is  succinct,  spirited, 
graphic,  and  so  far  as  our  information  extends,  correct.  It  is  admi- 
rably prefaced  by  Horace  Greeley— a  preface  worth  the  price  of  th« 
book— and  has  an  appendix  containing  Kossuth's  principal  speeches 
both  in  England  and  America."— Boston  CommonvxaUA, 


•WORKS    PUBLISHED    BT    DERBY    4    MILLER. 

SUMMERFIELD; 

Or,  LIFE  ON  A    FARM.     By  DAT    KELLOGG   LEE.     Auburn. 
DERBY  &  MILLER. 


"  We  have  read  with  lively  and  satisfied  interest.  It  is  the  story  of 
a  pioneer  settlement  in  Western  (now  Central)  New  York,  and  its 
gradual  transformation  from  a  mere  opening  in  the  grand  old  woods 
into  a  populous  and  thrifty  rural  township.  The  scenes  are  natural, 
the  characters  homely  and  life-like,  and  the  narrative  replete  with 
passages  of  the  profoundest  pathos,  and  incidents  of  almost  painful  in- 
terest. This  is  evidently  the  work  of  no  amateur  in  woodcraft,  but 
one  '  to  the  manor  born,'  and  loving  Nature  and  her  children  with  a 
eon's,  a  brother's  affection.  Above  all,  '  Summerfield'  is  in  the  deepest 
sense  religious,  and  calculated  to  exert  a  strong  and  wholesome  moral 
influence  on  its  readers,  who  we  trust  will  be  many." — Horace  Greeley. 


"It  aims  to  teach  the  lesson  of  contentment,  and  the  rural  picture 
which  it  draws,  and  the  scenes  of  home  happiness  with  which  it  make* 
us  acquainted,  are  well  calculated  to  enforce  it." — Atlas. 


"  There  is  a  great  deal  of  life  and  nature  in  the  story,  and  in  some 
of  the  scenes  there  is  a  rich  display  of  wit.  It  were  well  for  the  rising 
generation  if  all  the  works  of  fiction,  which  almost  deluge  the  world, 
were  equally  dignified  in  their  character  and  harmless  in  their  ten- 
dency."— Argus. 

"  A  story  told  with  freshness,  and  in  a  neat  pointed  style.  It  has  a 
flavor  of  originality,  and  the  descriptions  are  generally  excellent ;  and, 
what  is  something  of  a  peculiarity  at  present  in  writing  of  this  kind, 
not  over-burdened  with  words  " — Literary  World. 

"  The  aim  of  the  author  of  this  little  work  is  to  instil  into  the  minds 
of  his  readers  a  lesson  of  the  utmost  practical  importance,  intimately 
connected  with  the  experience  of  every-day  life.  This  commendable 
object  ho  successfully  accomplishes  in  the  pages  of  this  charming 
book.  '  Life  on  a  Farm'  is  presented  in  all  its  most  attractive  features, 
and  yet  with  the  strictest  adherence  to  truth.  We  heartily  commend 
the  work  to  our  readers." — Albany  Register. 

"  This  is  a  pleasing  and  well-written  tale,  founded  on  incidents  con- 
nected with  farm-life,  and  bearing  a  most  instructive  and  salutary 
laoral.  The  print,  paper,  and  binding  are  excellent,  and  highly  cred- 
itable to  the  publishers  whose  enterprise  and  thrift  have  already  given 
them  rank  with  some  of  the  oldest  and  most  prosperous  houses  of  tb4 
great  cities  "— J.  G.  Saxe. 


WORKS    PUBLISHED    BY   DERBT    &    MILLER. 

WHAT  I  SAW  IN  NEW  YOEK; 

Or,  A  BIRD'S  EYE  VIEW  OP  CITY  LIFE.    By  JOEL  H.  Ross,  M.D. 
Auburn:  DERBY  &  MILLER. 


"  This  book  contains  the  observations  of  a  very  observing  author, 
who  has  seen  most  of  what  is  to  be  seen  in  New  York,  the  great  em- 
porium of  business,  pleasure,  riches,  poverty,  avarice,  charity  and 
crime.  The  book  contains  a  great  variety  of  useful  information,  and 
is  written  in  a  style  that  cannot  fail  to  please.  We  predict  that  it  will 
have  a  large  sale  throughout  the  country.  We  shall  give  our  readers 
a  few  extracts  from  this  volume  in  our  next  number." — Rutland 
Advertiser, 


"  This  is,  as  it  professes  to  be,  '  A  Bird's  Eye  View  of  City  Life.'  It 
is  a  volume  of  326  pages,  and  when  we  inform  our  readers  that  it  is 
from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Ross,  we  prepare  them  to  expect  a  chaste,  appro- 
priate and  well-written  volume.  It  notices  the  public  institutions, 
benevolent  and  scientific  societies,  &c.,  and  the  work  is  interspersed 
with  sound  and  excellent  remarks  upon  a  variety  of  topics.  Wnen  we 
say  that  it  has  been  published  by  those  enterprising  publishers,  Derby 
and  Miller,  of  Auburn,  we  need  say  no  more  of  the  merits  of  its  typog- . 
raphy,  binding,  &c." — Mirror  of  the  Times. 


"  This  is  an  excellent  book  for  two  classes  of  persons :  first,  those 
who  go  to  New  York,  and  want  a  guide  to  enable  them  to  find  out  the 
lions ;  secondly,  those  who  never  go  thither,  but  would  still  like  to 
take  in  the  great  idea  of  the  largest  American  city,  as  far  as  they  can 
•without  the  aid  of  vision.  The  writer  is  evidently  a  person  of  minute 
as  well  as  extensive  observation,  and  has  spared  no  pains  to  render 
his  work  worthy  of  the  public  patronage." — Argus. 


"  This  is  a  volume  of  over  300  pages,  and  embraces  a  great  amount 
of  statistical  and  other  information  relative  to  the  great  metropolis. 
The  author  has  drawn  from,  original  sources  in  his  accounts  of  institu- 
tions and  public  charities ;  his  work  cannot  be  without  value."— Albany 
Atlas. 


BOOKS   RECENTLY   PUBLISHED    BT   DEBBT    <fe   MILLER. 

Wiiat  I  Saw  in  London:  or,  Men  and  Things  in  the 
English  Metropolis.  By  D.  W.  BARTLETT.  Anburn : 
DERBY  &  MILLER. 

This  volume  displays  nothing  of  the  pride  of  authorship,  but  ft  has  a  freshness 
and  animation  in  its  narrative  that  are  quite  attractive,  and  coming  from  one  of  the 
youngest  writers  who  has  ever  braved  the  perils  of  the  press,  it  has  an  air  of  indi- 
viduality that  cannot  fail  to  prepossess  the  reader  in  its  favor.  The  author  enjoyed 
good  opportunities  for  observation,  and  has  turned  them  to  excellent  account.  •  •  * 
We  copy  a  few  of  his  rapid  portraitures,  which  have  the  rare  merit  of  being  un- 
affected and  free  from  exaggeration.  The  volume  contains  numerous  easy,  unpre- 
tending sketches  of  a  similar  character,  with  a  frequent  vein  of  shrewd  remark  on 
manners  and  society  in  England.  We  often  meet  with  a  more  pretentious  traveller 
—but  seldom  *>ith  a  more  agreeable  one.— JV.  Y.  Tribune. 

The  author  is  a  young  man,  yet  he  has  produced  in  the  volume  before  us  a  more 
readable  and  valuable  work  than  nine  tenths  of  the  books  of  travel  which  are  con- 
stantly pouring  from  the  press.  *  *  *  A  feature  of  this  volume  that  will  interest 
many  readers  is  his  group  of  "  Sketches  of  Public  Men."  These  include  Tennyson, 
Dickens,  Carlyle,  Macaulay,  and  others. — Hartford  Times. 

The  book  is  racy  and  spirited.  Its  descriptions  are  graphic,  and  it  will  be  read 
through  with  unflagging-interest.  The  author  has  been  the  able  foreign  correspon- 
dent of  several  journals ;  he  gave  the  best  description  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  wa 
think,  of  any  we  saw.— Boston  Olive  Branch. 

An  air  of  originality  and  freshness  pervades  every  page.  On  the  whole,  we  think 
it  will  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  entertaining  books  of  the  season. — JV.  £.'. 
Pbrmcr. 

He  deals  with  men  and  things,  and  the  traits  of  English  every-day  life,  kindly  and 
pleasantly,  and  he  has  made  a  neat  volume  of  excellent  reading. — National 
Era. 

All  the  lions  in  London,  literary,  artistic,  political,  military,  naval,  and  clerical, 
are  vividly  sketched.  We  have  derived  a  great  deal  of  information  and  pleasure 
from  a  perusal  of  this  good  book.— Philadelphia  City  Item. 

Mr.  Bartlett  has  written  a  book  which  is  the  fruit  of  long  residence  among,  and 
extensive  observation  of  the  great  English  nation.  It  is  this  which  gives  a  value  to 
his  work  that  few  volumes  of  travels  can  pretend  to,  and  which  causes  us  to  strongly 
recommend  it  to  all  others.— Carpet  Bag. 

This  lively,  gossipping  volume  is  a  welcome  addition  to  the  literature  of  the  day. 
~JV.  Y.  Orgtn. 


BOOKS   RECENTLY   PUBLISHED   BY   DERBY   *   MILLER. 

The  Life  of  the  Empress  Josephine,  first  wife: 
of  Napoleon.  By  P.  C.  HEADLEY.  12mo.,  pp.  378. 
Derby,  Miller  &  Co.,  Auburn,  New  York. 

There  are  few  of  the  female  characters  of  modern  history  whose  lires  abound  with 
more  interesting  events  than  that  of  the  Empress  Josephine.  Her  whole  course  was' 
one  of  romantic,  and  also  of  tragic  interest.  If  the  illustrious  husband  was  eminent, 
far  above  all  other  men  of  his  time,  for  vast  intellect  and  prodigious  achievements,' 
Josephine  seemed,  in  the  more  lofty  and  majestic  traits  of  character,  to  transcend  tha 
most  distinguished  of  her  female  cotemporaries.  Like  her  husband,  she  is  a  great 
subject  for  biography.  Many  memoirs  have  been  written  of  her.  possessing  more  01, 
less  merit,  but  none  have  been  without  interest.  The  author  of  the  present  book  has,' 
we  think,  been  very  successful.  It  is  by  far  the  most  interesting  history  of  Josephine* 
that  we  have  yet  seen,  fie  seems  to  have  had  recourse  to  the  best  sources  for  his 
materials,  which  he  has  combined  and  put  together  with  skill  and  judgment.  Hie, 
Btyle  is  flowing,  elegant,  and  often  eloquent.  In  short,  it  is  a  book  well  worth  read- 
ing. It  will  not  fail  to  attract  the  public  attention.  As  to  the  mechanical  execution1 
of  the  book,  it  is  but  justice  to  the  proprietors  to  say.  that  it  will  compare  favorably 
with  the  productions  of  the  press  of  any  city  in  the  Union.  It  contains  a  fine  mezzo-, 
tint  portrait  of  Josephine,  showing  a  beauty  of  person  equalled  only  by  the  mora' 
grandeur  of  her  character.—  Washington  Union.  i 

It  is  not  without  its  sparkling  gems.     Occasional  flashes  of  thought  mak«  the  rea' 
der  pause  to  contemplate  their  freshness  and  beauty,  and  reveal  a  well-stored  mint' 
In  sympathy  with  the  noblest  human  traits,  in  close  communion  with  the  glories  c 
nature.     His  text,  top,  is  happily  chosen.     Who  has  not  felt  a  lingering,  peculi 
undefinable  interest  in  the  hifrhly  extraordinary  and  tragic  career  of  the  Empr 
Josephine  t    Would  it  not  extend  this  notice  too  far,  we  should  like  to  touch  the  i 
prominent  of  the  many  eventful  passages  which  marked  the  history  of  this  ren 
able  child  of  superstition,  to  gaze  for  a  moment  upon  the  vascillating  star  of  her  < 
tiny,  and  trace  Us  luminous  ascent  from  the  veriest  depths  of  agonizing  gloom 
despair,  to  the  loftiest  pinacle  of  worldly  splendor  and  renown,  where  she  grasp 
for  a  moment  the  fleeting  phantom  of  happiness,  only  to  sink  again  into  the  arms  < 
misfortune,  and  feel  still  more  keenly  the  bitter  pangs  of  adversity.     But  all  this 
be  found  in  a  very  readable  form  in  this  interesting  volume,  and  we  cheerfully 
mend  it  to  notice. —  Utica  Observer. 

We  do  not  know  of  a  biography  of  this  important  and  interesting  personage, 
complete  in  its  historic  details,  and  so  congenial  to  the  spirit  of  her  life,  as  thi 
while  it  has  also  the  advantage  of  a  popular  style,  and  of  that  view  of  the  subje 
which  accords  with  the  general  sentiment.     Mr.  Headley  writes  in  a  clear,  well-sus\ 
tained  and  engaging  style— evidently  entertaining  a  warm  approbation  of  his  subject; 
and  alive  to  the  sublimity  and  purity  of  her  life.    Treating  of  one  of  the  most  impoi. 
tant  epochs  of  French  history,  the  work  is  finely  adapted  to  enlist  the  interest  of  th 
reader,  and  to  supply  a  kind  and  degree  of  information  not  readily  accessible  ele 
where.     It  can  hardly  fail  of  proving  a  highly  popular,  as  it  is  a  highly  creditab 
work.— AT.  Y.  Evangelist. 

The  writer  of  this  book  is  a  brother  of  J.  T.  Headley,  the  author  of"  Napoleon  i 
his  Marshals"  -"  Washington  and  his  Generals,"  <fec.  There  is  a  strong  family  rt  . 
semblance  between  ihe  two.  The  qualities  which  have  given  such  a  wide  celebrit: 
to  the  one,  seem  to  be  fully  enjoyed  by  the  other.  Both  brothers  are  characterize£ 
by  that  peculiar  vividness  and,  so  in  speak,  intensity  of  style  which  always  makes 
book  readable  and  intereptirz.  The  l;  Life  of  Josephine"  possesses  much  of  this  p^ 
culiar  charm.  The  author  has  studied  his  subject  well  and  could  hardly  liave  chose,' 
a  better  one  to  write  upon.  Josephine  is  a  charmed  name  to  many  hearts.  Th 
are  few  who  do  not  feel  an  interest  in  her  singularly  eventful  career.  At  first 
daughter  of  a  West  India  planter,— then  the  wife  of  a  French  nobleman, — anon  1 
consort  of  Gen.  Bonaparte  and  afterwards  Empress  of  France ; — her  picture  presen , 
us  with  a  scene  of  constantly  increasing  brightness,  where  the  dark  shades  ner*1 
ehase  away  the  light,  till  we  behold  her  ending  a  career  of  dazzling  splendor  as  a  f 
throned  Empress  and  repudiated  vrifo.  Josephine  waa  in  many  respecu  a  i  " 
woman,—  Amherst  Exprfst. 


BOOKS   RECENTLY   PUBLISHED    BY    DERBY    A    MILLEf 

Golden  Steps  to  Respectability,  Usefulness  and 
Happiness  ;  being  a  series  of  Lectures  to  the  youth  of 
both  sexes  on  Character,  Principles,  Associates,  Amuse- 
ments, Religion,  and  Marriage.  By  JOHN  MATHKK  AUSTIN 
Derby,  Miller  &  Co.,  Auburn,  1850.  243  pp. 

The  author  of  this  book  is  a  writer  of  superior  attraction,  and  has  here  selected  • 
nibject  of  deep  interest.  Could  the  youth  of  the  country  be  induced  to  exchange  the 
Buntline,  Lippard,  and  Ingraham  literature  of  the  day,  for  such  reading  as  this,  tho 
Benefits  to  themselves  and  society  would  be  incalculable.  —  Lockport  Courier. 

We  honor  the  heart  of  the  writer  of  this  volume  aa  well  as  his  head.  He  has  here 
iddressed  an  earnest  and  manly  appeal  to  the  young,  every  page  of  which  proves  hi* 
liricerity  and  his  desire  for  their  welfare.  The  subjects  treated  of  in  the  different  lec- 
tures are  those  indicated  on  the  title  page.  Integrity  and  virtue,  usefulness,  truth 
tnd  honor,  are  the  "  Golden  Steps  "  by  which  the  young  may  ascend  to  respectability, 
isefulness,  and  happiness.  We  trust  the  seed  thus  sown  will  not  be  without  its  fruit, 

Ciis  readers  will  imbibe  the  spirit  of  the  motto  he  has  chosen— 
"  Onward  !  onward  !  toils  despising, 
Upward  !  upward  !  turn  thine  eye*, 
Only  be  content  when  rising, 
Fir  thy  goal  amid  the  skies." 
State  Xeguter. 

The  work  of  Mr.  Austin,  written  in  a  pleasing  style,  and  nervous  and  pointed  in  it* 
trgumentation,  will  hold  a  prominent  position  among  the  fortunate  endeavors  by 
thich  the  rising  generation  are  to  be  influenced.  The  volume  before  us  is  beautiful 
n  its  exterior,  and  this,  combined  with  the  aim  of  the  author,  in  which  he  has  aJnii- 
ably  succeeded,  will  give  it  a  wide  range,  and  secure  for  it,  we  hope,  an  invaluabl* 
nfluence.—  Buffalo  Christian  Advocatt. 

A  plain,  familiar,  forcible  exposition  of  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  Youth, 
rhich  can  hardly  be  read  without  exerting  a  salutary  and  lasting  influence.  Judging 
rom  the  popularity  of  Mr.  Austin's  former  works,  we  predict  for  it  a  wide  circula- 
ork  Tribune. 


If  the  precepts  eloquently  and  forcibly  urged  in  these  pages  could  be  brought  home 
ad  impressed  upon  the  mind*  of  the  mass  of  youth  in  our  land,  they  would  confei 
wting  and  incalculable  benefits  upon  the  rising  generation.  We  cordially  commend 
his  work  to  the  attention  of  the  young  and  all  who  have  charge  of  them. 

The  publishers  have  executed  their  work  admirable,  and  hare  brought  out  an  ele 
ant  and  beautiful  book.  Their  work  will  compare  favorably  with  any  of  the  New 
'ork  house*.—  Troy  Pott. 

The  following  extract  ha*  reference  to  the  "  golden  ttepe"  of  til*  Praddwt  *f  th. 
tiud  SUtUi,  MUUtrd  FiUawn  :—  <Se«  p*«»  69.) 


WORKS   PUBLISHED    BY   DERBT   4   MILIEU. 

THE  LIVES  OF  ANN  H.  AND  SARAH  B.  JUDSON, 

WITH  A  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF  EMILY  C.  JODSON,  MISSIONARIES 
TO  BURMAH.  In  Three  Parts.  BY  ARABELLA  W.  STUART.  Auburn : 
DERBY  &  MILLER. 


"The  reeords  of  modern  Christian  heroism  contain  no  brighter 
name  than  that  of  Ann  Hasseltine  Judson,  the  first  wife  of  the  first 
American  Baptist  missionary  to  the  heathen.  In  the  domestic  virtues 
— in  Christian  courage — in  self-sacrificing  fidelity  to  the  cause  of  truth 
— and  in  meekness  amid  trials  which  would  crush  an  ordinary  heart, 
she  has  had  no  superior  in  any  age ;  and  her  character  cannot  be 
presented  too  often,  or  too  much  contemplated.  We  have  here  a  nar- 
rative of  her  life  without  the  full  history  of  the  mission  with  which 
she  was  connected.  The  second  wife  of  Adoniram  Judson,  like  the 
first,  was  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  talents;  an  enthusiastic 
lover  of  missionary  work,  and  meriting,  in  its  highest  sense,  the  appel- 
lation of  Christian  heroine.  In  sketching  her  life,  Miss  Stuart  has 
been  aided  by  fresh  material  derived  from  private  sources,  and  has 
written  the  most  appropriate  memoir  of  Sarah  Boardman  Judson  ex- 
tant. The  sketch  of  the  third  and  living  wife  of  Mr.  Judson  is,  prop- 
erly, very  brief.  It  is  written  with  a  high  appreciation  of  her  genius, 
and  contains  several  of  her  poems,  which  exhibit  that  genius.  The 
volume  will  be  a  choice  work  in  thousands  of  Christian  families." — 
Western  Literary  Journal. 

"  The  friends  of  missions  have  long  known  these  three  women,  aa 
the  co-workers  with  that  great  leader  of  missionary  enterprises,  Dr. 
Judson.  It  will  be  then  not  only  profitable  but  highly  interesting  for 
them  to  find  recounted  here  their  deeds  of  piety  and  labors  of  love. 
The  last  of  the  three,  who  is  now  on  a  visit  to  her  home  m  New  York, 
has  been  known  very  widely  among  the  lovers  of  literature  in  this 
country.  No  name  has  been  more  popular  among  female  writers  of 
this  country  than  '  Fanny  Forrester.'  " — Burlington  Register. 

"  Our  author  has  made  a  very  agreeable  volume  of  biography,  of 
selections  from  the  writings,  &c.,  of  those  whose  lives  she  has  sketched. 
It  is  a  most  valuable  book  to  be  read  by  females ;  a  record  of  noble 
deeds,  with  elevating  tendencies  to  all  over  whom  it  is  possible  to 
«ercise  influence." — State  Rtgitf  /•, 


rfOOKS   RECENTLY   PUBLISHED   BY   DERBY   *   MILLER, 

Headley's  Women  of  the  Bible:  Historical  and 
descriptive  sketches  of  the  \Vomen  of  the  Bible,  as  maidens, 
wives,  and  mothers;  from  Eve  of  the  Old,  to  the  Marys  of 
the  New  Testament:  by  Rev.  P.  C.  Il°<adiey,  in  one  12mo. 
volume,  illustrated — uniform  with  "Headley's  Sacred 
Mountains." 

The  author  of  this  work  possesses  enough  traits  of  resemblance  to  the  author  9? 
Jfte  Sacred  Mountains,  to  leave  no  doubt  of  his  right  to  the  name  of  Headley.  There 
is  much  of  that  spirited  descriptive  power,  which  has  made  the  elder  brother  • 
popular  favorite,  and  gives  promise  of  a  successful  career  on  his  owr.  account.  The 
•ketches  are  brief,  and  embody  all  the  historic  incidents  recorded  of  them.—  New 
York  Evangelist. 

A  younger  brother  of  J.  T.  Headley  is  the  author  of  this  beautiful  volume.  It  will 
probably  have  a  larger  circulation  than  the  splendid  work  issued  last  fall  by  the 
Messrs.  Appleton,  being  better  adapted  for  the  general  reader,  in  form  and  pric$ 
while  it  is  ornamental  enough  for  the  centre  table  It  contains  nineteen  descriptir 
biographical  sketches,  arranged  in  chronological  order,  including  nearly  all  th« 
distinguished  women  of  the  sacred  annals,  and  foiling  an  outline  of  Scriptun 
history.  The  illustrations  are  from  original  designs,  and  are  numerous  and  appro. 
priate.  No  ordinary  powers  of  imagination  and  expression  are  shown  in  the  vivi< 
and  picturesque  descriptions;  and  the  fine  portraitures  of  character  rivet  th» 
interest,  and  set  fonh  the  Scripture  delineations  in  a  stronger  light.  In  this  respec. 
Ihe  book  has  no  rival,  for  no  other  is  so  complete,  following  so  closely  at  the  same 
time,  the  sacred  narrative.  We  hope  it  is  but  an  earnest  of  other  works  from  the 
pen  of  us  gifted  author  —  Home  Journal. 

\\V  were  so  struck  with  the  title  of  this  work,  and  the  prepossessing  appearance 
•f  HP  oV>og«phy,  that  we  have  so  far  departed  from  the  usual  course  adopted  in 
like  cases,  as  to  read  carefully  the  work  in  hand,  before  recommending  it  to  our 
readers.  And  we  are  prenared  to  say,  (hat  a  more  attractive  volume  has  not  fallen 
in  our  way  for  a  long  time.  It  is  made  up  of  brief  historical  and  descriptive  eulogies 
of  the  most  remarkable  females  of  a  most  extraordinary  era  in  the  world's  history. 
The  author  has  appropriated  very  much  of  the  poetry  and  romance  of  the  Bible,  in 
the  sketches  he  has  given  of  nineteen  women,  who  have  come  down  to  us  throuffh 
their  peculiar  merits,  embalmed  in  sacred  inspiration.  Whoever  reads  the  story  of 
Sarah,  the  beautiful  Hebrew  maiden,  the  admiration  of  the  Chaldean  shepherds  and 
the  pride  of  her  kindred  ;  or  of  Ktbecca,  whom  the  "  faithful  steward  of  Abraham  " 
journeyed  to  the  land  of  Nahor  and  selected  as  the  bride  of  Isaac,  and  who,  it  n 
said,  "was  very  fair  to  lonk  vjton ;"  or  of  Rachel,  the  beautiful  shepherdess  wh» 
tended  her  father'*  flocks  in  the  valley  of  Haran ;  or  of  Mernam,  Deborah,  Jeptha'i 
Daugb.  tr,  Delilah.  Ruth,  Queen  of  Slieba,  tlieShunamitei^ther.  E 
Mary,  Dorcas,  and  others  —  will  read  a^ry^y  nfoSr  injfKsting  and 
any  romance  or  norel.  Every  young  ltdj  in*wn4houwtead  this  wortt 
will  venture  to  «ay  that  they  wtT  do  eo  if  they  but  once  get  hold  of  it,  for  it  is  i 
that  cannot  be  laid  trfde.  -  I 


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